Fire and Blood
by Kaze No Tenshi
Summary: Legolas, wandering in search of answers to questions, discovers that those who are the most harmed in war are the ones who deserve it the least. And nothing is as simple as it seems. IN PROGRESS
1. Chapter I: Encounters

Chapter One - Encounters

In the time after the destruction of the One Ring, peace slowly returned to Middle-Earth. The people banded together to restore the damages done to their lands. The hearts and minds of Man and the other Races were at peace, accepting the changes brought to their world. All were at peace, that is, except those that had been part of the Fellowship of the Ring.

In particular, the mind of Legolas Greenleaf.

The Time of the Elves had come and gone, their leaders deciding to journey to the Grey Havens and leave the land for Man to do as it pleased. Yet Legolas wished not to go. He knew that he should go and be with his people, where he belonged, but in his heart he felt the need to stay.

The elf sighed, leaning his head back against the bark of the tree he was sitting under. The wind blew in the branches, making a soothing sound. His pale blue eyes watched the limbs of the great tree sway; his blonde hair brushing his face as the breeze lifted their ends. He had spoken to both his father and Elrond concerning the matter, and both had agreed that Legolas should do as he wished, despite the fact that being the only remaining Elf would surely cast him into the shadows of man's anger or even their hatred.

Legolas smiled. Man was so strange at times. They could never decide whether they were happy or upset with one thing or another. They had such complex beliefs and ways of life that many elves had refused to have anything to do with them. Yet he knew that remaining behind would be troublesome. If he stayed until the ends of his days, who knew what he would see or how men would react to him then?

_The Elves do not leave for a few more years_, he thought, standing up. He grabbed a low-hanging branch and flipped up into the foliage higher and higher until he was in the very top of the tree, looking out across the landscape of Mirkwood, at the world that was his home. _Perhaps there is still time to decide_, he thought, his eyes gleaming with determination.

"Legolas!" a deep yet aged voice called from the ground below. The Elven prince rose from his place in the tree and jumped down, landing in front of the one calling him.

"Yes, Gandalf?" he said as he straightened.

The wizard smiled. "Your father has told me that you are troubled, my young friend."

Legolas dropped his gaze, feeling embarrassed that Gandalf knew of his dilemma. "Yes, I am troubled," he said, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "I do not know whether I should go with my people to the Grey Havens or stay here."

"Stay here?" Gandalf chuckled. "Why would you want to stay?"

"There lies the problem," the elf sighed, leaning against the tree. He crossed his arms over his chest and look into the wizard's aged face. "I do not know why, but I feel the need to stay here. It might be that I am just restlessness from being confined in these lands for so long," he motioned to the forest around them, "yet I know it goes deeper than just that. Much deeper."

Gandalf nodded. "To choose between the mind and the heart is near impossible and very frustrating, is it not?"

"That it is!" laughed Legolas. "I was thinking, though. There is still time before we depart for the Grey Haven, isn't there?"

He nodded. "Elrond and I were discussing that. He and I shall be the last to leave, taking Bilbo and Frodo with us. That will be no later than Bilbo's 130th birthday, for we do not think he will live long past that, yet there is the possibility that we shall depart sooner."

"Bilbo and Frodo?" questioned Legolas, amazed. "They are coming? Why?"

Gandalf bowed his head a bit. "Because they carried the Ring."

Legolas nodded slowly, understanding. "His 130th birthday? That is a few years away."

"Indeed. Legolas, may I offer some advice?"

The Elf nodded, eager to have someone else's input on his predicament.

"Then here it is: You say you thought at first that it was restlessness? Then leave Mirkwood. Leave this land and travel the rest of Middle-Earth for the remaining years you have left. Your heart might just be yearning for another adventure."

Legolas pondered the White Wizard's words briefly. "There is truth in what you say, Gandalf." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I do not deny that I have wished to journey the land once again. This time without such a heavy burden to carry." A faraway expression slipped onto his fair face as he stared through the branches of the tree, to the blue sky. "To have one more adventure..." A smile broke his face, "There, now! I sound much like old Bilbo, don't I?"

"Think on it," said Gandalf, patting his friend's shoulder before turning to leave. "Then decide."

As he walked away, Gandalf hid a smile behind his thick grizzled beard. To have one more adventure... "Who knows?" he said to himself. "You just might find the adventure that you never thought was possible..."

---

Legolas decided to journey through the lands of Middle-Earth as Gandalf had suggested, promising his father he would either be back before they departed for the Grey Havens or send word that he would remain behind. The day before he left, he went to talk to Gandalf. The wizard had already gone, leaving behind a small package for Legolas that had a note attached to it. It read:

_Legolas, _

If you are reading this then you have decided to depart for one last adventure and I am no longer in Mirkwood. To you I leave this: a gift that will aid you in case you come across any trouble that you find yourself unable to get out of. Do not open it or it will not work. Also, you should beware of the Orcs that are still alive and roaming the land. Though master less and driven out of their homelands, they still bare grudges against Elves. Beware of them; do not come into contact with any if you can help it.

Gandalf

Legolas went, heading for the large areas of land that was not fully inhabited yet. Days past as he continued on his way, stopping only in the dead of night to rest and never interfering with anyone if he could help it. Upon a few occasions he ran into a few surviving groups of Orcs but he managed to avoid being seen by them. It was on such an occasion that his journey took an abrupt change.

On the occasion in which he could not avoid a fight with the putrid creatures.

He had been walking through the forest on a trail that ran through the middle of it when his keen hearing had picked up the Orcs' noisy trampling through the underbrush. He leapt up into the shelter of a nearby tree, cocking an arrow in his bow just in case. It was not long before a company of ten plus Orcs came into his line of sight. They were shouting among themselves, making wild gestures both down the trail and then back the way they had came. Legolas managed to pick out a couple of words through their rambled sentences. They were looking for someone, someone they had lost some time ago. One of the Orcs stopped, raising his foul head and looking through the trees. Legolas stiffened as the Orc locked eyes with his.

Before it could give the warning, Legolas fired his arrow, striking the Orc in the forehead. His cover blown, Legolas dropped from the tree and fired another arrow, taking down another Orc just as they began to charge him. He managed to slay another five before they got within range for their clubs to be of some use to them. He grimaced, knowing he would have to resort to using his long knife if he wanted to get out of this alive. His hand reached for the hilt--

A shrill scream filled the air, the source from behind the Orcs. The remaining creatures stopped for some reason Legolas could not fathom and turned to see what it was. Legolas spared a glance. The battered form of a person standing unsteadily on their feet a ways away met him, causing him to stare for a second. The Orcs suddenly roared then dove upon the person.

"Look out!" shouted Legolas, already pulling his long knife out of its sheath, driving it into the back of the closest Orc to him. A cracking sound reached his ears and he saw that the person was armed with a whip. The person reared back and snapped their weapon forward, the end wrapping around the neck of one of the Orcs. They pulled back, then snapped it forwards again, sending the Orc crashing into two others. Legolas ran his blade through the throat of another, making himself concentrate on defeating the Orcs.

For several moments the two fought the Orcs until they alone stood. Legolas turned his gaze to the person, who swayed on their feet as if dizzy. "Are you all right?" he asked, making his way to them.

Their head snapped up, showing dull, hazy red eyes behind thick, tangled sandy-blonde hair. Legolas stepped back, shocked. It was a young woman, he realized. She was clad in a simple gray dress that hung on her thin frame to her knees. Her whip was around her arm to keep from trailing on the ground. As he studied her, he saw that she was covered in cuts and bruises, old as well as fresh. Her skin was ashen and she had the look of one who had been without proper food for a long time. A large gash that ran from her shoulder, crossing her side to her back splashed blood on her clothes.

"A-Are you all right?" he asked again.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, as if wondering what he was. Then, her eyes widened. "ELF!" she screamed, terror in her voice and eyes. She started to back away swiftly, but stumbled, slamming into the ground.

"Wait!" he said, running up to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder to help her up.

"NO!" she screamed, her whip snapping out and slashing his right cheek open. "Stay away! Stay away!" she shouted, trying to get as far from him as she could. He could see that her legs were not working and she was slowing down, showing she was about to collapse from exhaustion.

"I will not harm you," he said gently, trying to calm her down, grimacing when the cut on his cheek flared with pain.

"Stay away! Stay away!" she still shouted, then she said something low and raspy, making a sign with her hand before falling against the trunk of a great oak tree in a boneless heap.

Legolas let out a frustrated breath. From what he could see of her injuries, she needed medical attention fast. He reached over to pick her up. A whistling sound ran through his ears, making him jerk back from her. Before his shocked eyes, he saw the roots of the tree move out of their place in the ground and formed a barrier between the girl and himself. Just as he was about to draw his blade to cut it down, the branches of the tree sprang out, catching his arms and twisting around them, holding him fast. Some of the branches encircled his neck, leaving just enough room so he could breathe easily. More roots rose up, fastening his feet to the ground. He struggled in vain for the tree's hold was strong and unbreakable. He saw some more roots wrap around his bow and knife, yanking them out of his possession and pulling them away from him.

**_LEAVE THE CHILD BE, ELVEN PRINCE..._** came the whispering voice of the great oak. **_DO NOT FORCE OUR HAND..._**

Legolas strained against the branches to free his arms. "**_She is in need of help,_**" he said through gritted teeth, slipping into his native tongue unconsciously.

A hush befell the tree before it said, **_WE OBEY OUR MASTER'S WORDS, ELVEN PRINCE... ALL WAYS..._**

Puzzled by the response and seeing that he would not be freed until the tree allowed it, Legolas stopped struggling. He shifted his gaze from the bonds that held him to the girl. She was still visible through the gaps in the roots. He frowned, squinting his eyes against the sunlight glaring down in them, as he looked at the whip she held more closely. The design was familiar to him, as if he had seen one like it before. When it hit him, he gasped, eyes widening. It was an Orc whip. But where could she have found one? Orcs were not ones who let their belongings be taken, especially one that they were so fond of using.

The roots suddenly glowed a soft green color, disrupting his vision. He managed to see through the light and saw that the ends of the roots were around the gash on her side, the light flowing into it. Legolas could not help but feel a bit worried; the gash was deep and already infected a bit. The brief fight with the Orcs seemed to have reopened it.

**_THE CHILD WILL LIVE..._** the tree reassured him. **_DO NOT WORRY..._** The roots began to recede back into the ground from around the girl, yet the ones that held Legolas remained still. **_DO NOT UPSET THE CHILD... WE DO NOT KNOW HOW SHE WILL REACT..._**

He said nothing, as the girl was beginning to stir. She groaned, her brow creasing as she rolled onto one side, curling into a ball. Her hand went to the gash then her eyes opened wide when she felt the blood on her. She jerked up, wincing at the pain. He started to say something, but shut his mouth, the tree's warning keeping him at bay.

The girl pushed her bangs out of her eyes as she stood. When she saw Legolas, bound by the branches and roots of the tree, she stiffened, backing away. "Wh-who are you?" she stammered, her whip unwrapping and hanging loose in her hand.

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, my lady," he said slowly. He was surprised to find that her eyes were now bright red like a burning fire, not dull like red dirt as they had first appeared to be.

"Who sent you?" she shouted, coming to life before him. Her eyes narrowed and her small mouth pulled back in a snarl. "Was it Saruman or his Orcs? So help me, I will not be taken again. I will not let any more of your cursed kind have their way with me!"

"Wait!" cried Legolas, feeling the branches around his neck tighten their hold. "No one sent me! I am on my own way, not someone else's! I am not after you!"

"How am I to trust you!" she shot back. "You're an Elf!" she spat the word out like it was something foul to her. "Elves are far worse than Orcs!"

Rage enflamed Legolas. How dare she compare him to an Orc! Who was she that thought she had the right to even conceive such a thought! If only his arms were free--

Something broke through the red-hot anger. Her breathing had suddenly changed, hitching with every inhale of breath. It was then he saw that though she tried to appear as fierce as her words, the girl was still swaying on her feet. Her limbs were trembling and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Her snarl was strained, as if it took all her strength just to keep it on her face. Legolas felt ashamed. "I mean you no harm," he said gently.

His soft words caused her to stop, her face becoming like that of a frightened child. "Yo-you don't?" she stumbled over her words.

"No. I am traveling on my own, under no one's orders," he said again.

"You're...on your own?" she said wearily, her gaze moving to circle the area around them as if expecting someone to come out.

"Yes. Please, I will do no harm. If you are the one that the tree is listening to, then would yo--"

/**CRACK**

A mirroring cut was slashed into his left cheek. The girl snapped her whip back behind her as she growled, "Did I ask! Hold your tongue or else I shall strike your eyes next time!" The branches around his neck once again tightened.

He bit back a sharp reply, knowing the answer to his question. So, the tree was listening to her after all. But how? What power did she have over it that could move its deep roots from their place in the earth?

The girl started to say something, but stopped, turning around and looking up at the tree. A few moments passed before she glanced back at Legolas, question and fear flickering through her face. "If...if I let you go," she said at length, "will...will you swear that you will not come near me?"

Slightly perplexed at the question, Legolas took a second to collect his thoughts before saying, "I swear I will not approach you."

"You do?" she stressed, facing him. Her apprehension was obviously displayed in her voice, her fear as well in the way that she wrung her hands over and over again.

He nodded his reply. The girl appeared as if she did not trust him, yet she murmured something under her breath, making a sign with her hand. The branches and roots slackened before releasing him. He straightened, rubbing his bruised neck. He looked up at the girl. She was backing away from him, her hand gingerly touching the gash on her side. She stopped only when she was against the trunk of the tree. Concerned for her health made him frown upon seeing the wound bleeding anew. "Are you all right?" he asked, motioning to her side.

Her eyes flashed. "It's none of your concern!" she shouted. "Besides, why do you care?" She sniffed, and then turned her head away from him.

"I care because the wound has not stopped bleeding though the tree has healed the infection." Legolas reached for his bow but realized both that and his knife were away from him, close to the base of the tree. The girl saw this and flicked her free hand out. The tree's roots shifted, grabbing the bow and knife, then moved to him, laying the weapons on the ground by his feet. "Thank you," he said, bowing before he picked them up.

"I don't want your thanks. Just leave."

Her cold words did little to faze him. He sheathed his knife and adjusted his bow in his grip before he turned to leave. He stopped, a thought dawning on him. He swung his pack off his back and opened it, rummaging through it for what he sought.

"Wh-what are you doing?" the girl asked, her hand tightening on her whip.

"Just leaving these," said Legolas, setting the items on the ground. He rose, meeting her red orbs. "I hope you get better, my lady," he said, smiling, before taking his leave.

The words fell on deaf ears. The girl stared at what he had placed on the ground: clean bandages and a small bottle of healing medicine. She stared at his back as he got further and further away. "Why?" she breathed. Her strength finally gave out and she fell to her knees. With shaking hands, she gathered up the items. "Why give me these?"

The branches of the oak quivered. A hissing whispered from the roots as wisps of black fog curled around the trunk from behind it. Within the fog, two golden yellow eyes gleamed in the sunlight towards the girl crouched in front of it. A deep, guttural growl sounded, yet it was soft as if the creature wasn't as threatening as it seemed.

"Yes," said the girl, looking in the direction he had left. "Follow him. Closely, yet do not be seen."

---

The dark, smoky bar did little to ease Legolas' mind. It had been two weeks since the incident with the Orcs, in that time he had had five confrontations, two or three of them involving an Uruk-Hai as well. The sudden appearance of so many Orcs in such a short time made him very edgy, expecting another batch whenever he turned his back. He shook his head, taking another drink from the mug in front of him. He was aware of the stares he was getting from many of the patrons, who were a little curious as to why he had his hood and cloak around him even in the heat that the roaring fireplace produced. He ignored them, knowing that the sooner he got out of the bar the better.

A small hissing sound made him jerk his head up to face the source. Nothing, just people. He frowned, wondering if he was still hearing things. Ever since he had crossed paths with that strange girl, he kept hearing things. Mostly there was a weird hissing sound like then, but also the plants around him would shake and rustle as he passed as if in a breeze; but there would be no wind.

"That's what I heard!" exclaimed a particularly loud patron, catching Legolas' attention. "Swarmed his farm and destroyed everything, that they did!"

"What I can't understand," replied another, "is why these cursed creatures still exist? Shouldn't they all be gone?"

"'S not that easy," responded an accented voice. "These creatures 'ere breed for centuries! They're not just gonna disappear like tha'!"

"Still," said the first, "why're they tearing up the fields and attacking innocent people? I heard that they killed this one young girl yet left her sisters alone. Pretty little thing she was. The most beautiful hair I ever saw. Long and the color of golden sand."

Legolas' eyes shot to the ones speaking at the mention of the girl's hair color. Golden sand? Long? An image of the girl he had encountered appeared in his mind. Yes, her hair was the same. An involuntary twitch of pain shot through his cheeks, remembering the cuts the girl had inflicted. The wounds had long ago healed, the faintest hint of scarring left in their wake.

"But why did they kill her and not her sisters?" asked one of the men at the table.

"How should I know?"

"Just wondering."

"'Tis a real shame, though. She was a beauty. And the clearest of brown eyes..."

Legolas let out the breath he did not even know he had been holding. So it was not she. The Wood-Elf found it strange that even now he was thinking of her. There was something about her that interested him. How she had managed to help in defeating a large group of Orcs when she was injured was one thing, but that whip of hers was another. She handled it as if it was a part of her, yet he wondered how she had managed to get a hold of it and how she learned to use it. As strange as it sounded, the way she handled it was that of an Orc. Legolas chuckled, thinking, _I must be going insane, comparing that girl at an Orc._

As he thought the words, the girl's harsh voice echoed in his mind. '_Elves are far worse than Orcs!_' She had spoken the words with such a hate it made him somewhat nervous. His sharp eyes had not missed the strange, murderous gleam in her eye as she had struck him for a second time. He knew too well that she would have made good on her promise to slash his eyes. Why did she have such an enraged hate for his kind?

_That girl is definitely a mystery_, he thought as he downed the last of his drink. _One I don't think I will ever find the answers to._ He left the money for his drink on the table and made his way out of the bar, feeling many eyes following him out. The chilled, late afternoon air met him as he departed the bar. On reflex he closed his cloak around him. _I need to get as much ground covered as I can,_ he thought as he headed outside the village.

He swiftly left, avoiding bumping into the villagers as they returned home from a long day's work. He managed to get out without incident and continued at a slower pace. He let out a relieved breath, letting his hood fall back. He shook his head, his hair freeing itself and falling down.

As the sun fell, leaving the moon and stars in its wake, Legolas felt a sudden chill. He paused, eyes darting around. His ears picked up what sounded like strained breathing coming from his right. His hand went for his bow.

"No reason for that, now!"

Legolas spun as soon as the first words were spoken; arrow aimed at the branches of the tree beside him at the one who spoke.

"Whoa! You're good! Better than I thought!" exclaimed the youthful boy sitting up in the branches. He looked down at Legolas through a mass of thick, light brown hair, grinning as he laughed at his words. His golden eyes glinted, reflecting flecks of red and green in them. "You must be a skilled archer, huh?" he asked, standing up on the branch with surprising balance. "Bet you fought in a lot of battles, the way you handled that, I mean! Did you fight in the Great War? Huh? Did you?"

Legolas, seeing he would cause no harm however annoying he was, lowered his bow but kept the arrow in, just in case. "Who are you? And why are you are here so late?"

The boy's face remained as it was for a moment, before it shifted, becoming mature. His eyes dulled, the previous shine of youth exiting from them, replaced by the shadow of wisdom. His mouth, once curved in a mischievous grin, turned down, becoming sober, vague. "I am the One That Seeks," he spoke, his voice also seeming to have aged.

Legolas felt something stir in his heart. A feeling spread through him, a tingling sensation that made him anxious, but for what he did not know. "What do you seek?" he asked.

"I seek the One That Wanders."

Again, something moved within the young Elf. "For what purpose?" he spoke without realizing.

The boy lowered one hand, palm facing the Elf. Legolas stepped back. The boy's wrist and arm was slashed as if by a blade. Welts and bruises covered it as well. "To heal the One That is Scarred..." he spoke softly, tilting his head to the side, holding Legolas with his intense gaze. Flame suddenly erupted and spread from his arm to his whole body, then burst, disappearing along with the aforementioned injuries. "...and the One That is Dying." He raised his head back up, then said, "Go, Master Elf. They are coming...they have already taken you..."

/**BAMF**

The boy disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

Legolas reeled as if he had been punched. His heart clenched in his chest. He raised a hand over it, wincing as throbbed. "What is going on?" he gasped to the forest around him.

From all directions, foul voices rose on the wind. The Wood-Elf froze briefly before reloading his bow, recognizing the danger. The wind carried the words to him. His eyes narrowed with hate at what they were.

The language was of Mordor.

----------


	2. Chapter II: Voices

Chapter Two - Voices

Legolas ran, his feet barely touching the ground. His ears and eyes were both set upon the direction the harsh words were coming from. The Wood-Elf refused to move away from them, though he wished to. As an Elf, the Mordor language was not only disgusting to him, but also painful. He drew nearer to the place. In doing so, the throbbing in his heart slowly dulled to only a noticeable ache. The odd boy's words ran through his mind.

_'They are coming...they have already taken you...'_

_Who were coming? What did he mean?_

A crash broke his train of thought. It was coming just off the trail he had been following. Slowing his pace, he went in that direction, staying in the shadows. It was not long before the trees began to recede and Legolas spotted a clearing ahead. The voices were louder. He was able to decipher at least six Orcs and one Uruk-Hai. He stopped behind one of the trees, peering around it to see what was going on.

To his amazement, the creatures were circling the strange girl he had met two weeks ago. She was glaring at them with a gaze fit to kill. Her knuckles were white on the hand which she held her whip, flicking it every so often with nervousness.

The Uruk-Hai began to advance towards her, swaggering in a boastful manner. The girl snapped her eyes to him, and then she turned her head ever so slightly around her as if looking for an escape. The Uruk-Hai seemed amused, chuckling low in his throat. "It is useless to run," it spoke.

The girl growled, narrowing her eyes.

Again, the Uruk-Hai chuckled. "You've given us enough trouble." His eyes narrowed as he sneered, "We have you. There is no where for you to go now."

The Orcs began to close in, laughing. A few had their crude swords already out and were waving them tauntingly, eyes gleaming with a hate-fueled thirst for blood. The Uruk-Hai continued his advance. The girl's face paled. Her head snapped from Orc to Orc, eyes wide and filled with terror. She slowly backed away. "N-No," she whispered, her throat constricting against rising horror. "No!" She lashed out with her whip towards the large creature before her.

One of the Orcs, also armed with a whip, saw her move and snapped his own out. It ripped across the back of her hand and arm, tearing her skin. She let go of her whip on reflex. The Orc snatched it up with his and caught it in the air.

The girl barely felt the fresh wound, as she was too frightened to feel anything else now that she was unarmed. She stared at the Uruk-Hai, rooted in her place, and shook in fear. The creature smirked, reaching to his side and pulling out a dagger.

From his place, Legolas stood silent, waiting for the right moment to assist the girl. Light reflected off the blade of the dagger that the Uruk-Hai held, catching the Elf's eye. The weapon, Legolas saw, was not one that the Orcs had made. Though curved near the end, it was thin and smooth while the normal Orc weapons were thick and rough. The blade had markings running along one edge that appeared to be runes. The hilt, partially covered by the hand that held it, was silver and laced with red jewels. It was certainly no Orc blade, which could be seen by anyone. What was that cursed being doing with it?

The girl's gaze became fixed on the dagger and she froze; her trembling stopped. Then her eyes narrowed. She looked back at the Uruk-Hai and growled, "That was a mistake." Unfazed by the sudden change in her character, the creatures did not slow down.

Legolas came out of his hiding spot and released his arrow, striking the Uruk-Hai in the back. The Orcs, now alerted of his presence, shifted their attention on him. A few of the Orcs turned to attack Legolas while the rest stayed by their leader. The Uruk-Hai appeared to not have felt the arrow and still concentrated on the girl.

A deep roar echoed throughout the area as trees that formed the side of the clearing behind the girl were ripped apart by a huge black beast. Most of its body was shrouded by black fog, hidden from view. It growled at the ones before it, its teeth flashing, sharp and long. Its eyes were large and golden, set on the Uruk-Hai. The claws on its front paws twitched with anticipation, one on each side of the girl. A long, thin tail could be seen behind it, raised high.

The Orcs stared at the creature, their mouth open in shock. One pointed with a shaking hand to it and rambled something to the others, panicked. The Uruk-Hai stared as well before it turned back to the girl, yelling a chorus of curses in his foul tongue. His free hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground.

The trees around the clearing rose, shifting their positions. They grew closer to each other, sealing off any exit.

The girl glared at the Uruk-Hai. Her hair began to fray out, giving her a wild appearance. From his place, Legolas saw her eyes glowing brightly, illuminating her face. "You should have let me go..." she whispered, her teeth clenched. Her bleeding hand gripped on the wrist holding her throat.

The Uruk-Hai burst into green flames.

The beast dove upon the Orcs, who scattered. It crushed and ripped through many of them with its massive paws, catching the rest of them and eating them whole. When they were gone, it turned its head to Legolas. The beast's gaze caught the Elf and instantly all feeling left his body. It was as if he no longer had control over it. All he could see were those two golden eyes. The beast grinned.

**_all ways one to assist, aren't you, LEGOLAS?_**

Legolas felt his mind shake at the words. Before he had time to wonder where they had come from, the beast turned its head, breaking away. He gasped softly, shaking his head. Once he regained some command of his senses, he swept his gaze over the field, taking in the aftermath. The clearing was now littered with the bodies of the Orcs. Some were intact and some...well, not so much intact. The Uruk-Hai's body was now nothing but a charred carcass, black and smoking. The girl struggled before ripping the dagger out of the corpse's tight grasp. She stumbled back, landing on the ground. She paused, holding the dagger. She ran a hand down the blade softly, a soft expression on her face. She then removed the sheath from the corpse and replaced the dagger in it. She stood, sighing and running a hand through her hair. The beast lowered itself until it lay on its belly beside the girl, taking a few trees down with it. The girl turned to it and raised a hand, stroking its large head fondly.

Legolas could not decide whether to stay and make his presence known or to get away before she turned the beast on him. He was still thinking about it when the girl saw him and gasped. The Elf, jerked out of his thoughts, looked up at her, daring to hope for the best. His pale blue eyes met the girl's fiery red ones, full of open hate and fear of him. He started to come closer, but stopped, remembering what he had sworn in their last meeting.

_Even though I see no need of it, I will not break the vow now,_ he thought. Also, seeing that the huge beast seemed to be familiar with her, Legolas decided to show he would do no harm. He knelt, setting his bow down on the ground and his knife beside it. He stood, then took a few steps away from the weapons, keeping contact with the girl's eyes.

The beast saw this. Its eyes flickered from the weapons to the girl. A low mumble emitted from its throat.

"No!" snapped the girl. "It's a trick! Have you forgotten everything?"

Another mumble.

"I don't care what you sense!" she screamed. "It's a trick!" She glanced at the weapons before saying in a lower voice, "He's an Elf! He'll get the bow back before I can release it and slay us both! Kill him now!" She spoke with a fearful tone, showing she thought Legolas could not hear. But he of course could hear her perfectly fine.

"I beg your pardon," spoke up Legolas, feeling that if he did not say something he would not like the outcome of the situation, "but I will slay neither of you. As I said in our last meeting, I am on my own way and I do not wish to kill anything except that which attacks me, milady," he ended motioning to the corpses of the Orcs.

A growl tore at her vocal cords as she shouted back, "And as I said, Elves are far worse than Orcs! I would sooner undergo their torture willingly than be in your hands, you filthy creature!" She ran, snatching up her whip by the body of the Orc that had taken it. She cracked it against the ground, declaring, "You won't leave this field, Elf!"

Impatience took over Legolas' reason. "Why do you insist that I mean you harm?" he demanded. "I've done nothing to you and yet you hate me! Why!"

"'Why'?" repeated the girl, an odd look coming onto her face. She titled her head to the side. "_Why?_" A grin split her face before a giggle then a bellowing laugh escaped her mouth. "'Why' he asks!" she laughed.

Legolas' brow furrowed. "What is so funny?"

In an instant all mirth left the girl, an icy glare rapidly sending a chill down Legolas' spine. "What's funny," she said, bending down on one knee slowly, "is that you think you're safe." She ran her free hand on the ground, her eyes lingering there before returning to Legolas. Her head cocked as she studied him. "I can kill you several ways from where I am now."

Though the tone in her voice was serious, Legolas' pride refused to let him believe her. A corner of his mouth quirked as if to from a smile. She was a human obviously in possession of some wizard ability, that much he knew from the way the tree had responded to her in their previous meeting and how the Uruk-Hai had burst into flames. But what could she do to him from way over there?

"You think I'm bluffing?" she questioned. She gathered a handful of dirt and grass and raised it. "I assure you, Elf," she sneered, "I do not make bluffs." She opened her hand and blew on the dirt in the hand spreading it in a semi-circle between her and the Wood-Elf. "Nor do I ever make threats." Her eyes narrowed, darkening with hate. "All I make are dark promises."

The ground around Legolas lurched, moving. The Elf gaped in shock as it started to rise, forming a circle. It continued to rise until he realized it was going to trap him. He jumped over the edge, landing neatly on his feet. Almost as soon as he did, the ground there did the same thing. Again and again and again he jumped, every time the ground right behind him like a predator after prey. As he dodged, his mind raced, trying to find a way he could make the girl listen to him without him getting caught or eaten in the process. His sharp eyes saw a large rock sticking halfway out of the ground a ways off. He shifted directions and soon landed on the rock, tensing in case she sent the ground on top of it. The ground quivered, but stayed as it was. His raised his head to look at the girl, shouting over the distance between them, "Will you listen to me?"

The girl smirked. "Never," she scoffed, cracking her whip against the ground. A line of green fire ignited the ground where it touched, rushing to Legolas. Just before it met the rock, it split and encircled the rock, its flames growing higher.

Legolas spun around, trying to find a way out. The fire was now above his head, the heat making him dizzy. He could see branches of a tree nearby stretching out over the top of the ring of fire, closing off that way of escape. He was trapped. The fire was all around him, slowly inching its way closer to him. The smoke was beginning to build up making it difficult to breathe. "Why are you doing this?" he shouted over the roar to the girl. "What have I done to you?"

His hearing managed to pick up the girl's reply. "You were born, Elf. That is reason enough."

Legolas' world went black.

---

Branches of trees moaning in the strong breeze. Dry leaves rustling on the ground.

Laughter of children. Cheerful, young, innocent voices chanting a song.

_"In the shadow,_

_There they delved._

_In the dark,_

_There they dwelled._

_Can you hear them?_

_This is their Plea._

_Listen to it,_

_That is all they need."_

Slowly, reluctantly, Legolas opened his eyes. He was lying on his back, the sky above him peeking between the clouds. He groaned, his head aching as he sat up. He looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. The song echoed in his mind. No, not just in his mind. The voices were still singing it.

"_Why do you fear?_

_Why do you scream?_

_Do you hear?_

_Is the grass still green?_"

Legolas stood, brushing the dirt off his clothes as he surveyed his surroundings. The girl and beast were nowhere to be seen. Neither were the bodies of the Orcs, he noted in slight surprise. He checked himself and found no injuries though he felt light-headed. He looked around again as he walked over to collect his weapons, frowning. Something was wrong. Besides the absence of the girl, Legolas could not help but feel he was not in the same place he had been when he lost consciousness. But what was it?

When he raised his eyes back to the sky, Legolas noticed something different about it. It was too blue. The clouds were too white and their gray shadows were too defined. As he lowered his gaze, he found more things out of place. The trees' leaves were not just green or red as they had been. They were brighter variations of the two, some a blinding yellow. The grass was a shocking dark blue color.

"What is going on?" Legolas thought out loud.

A twinkling laughter rang in his ears. Running footsteps came from behind him. He turned, expecting a stray Orc to appear. He was caught off guard when a girl came running into the clearing. She was clad in a simple green dress trimmed in black that was faded in some areas. She was blindfolded, arms outstretched around her. She slowed down, small hands groping around. She was grinning as she picked her way around the clearing and her hands searched. She appeared to be about five or six years old.

Legolas watched her as she drew nearer to him. One of her hands brushed his cloak. She quickly seized hold of it, shouting, "Got you!" Her hand rubbed the material, studying it. She frowned. "Drake?" she asked, tilting her head up. Her other hand reached up and touched his shirt, feeling it as well. Her frown deepened. "Theo?" she questioned. She tugged on his shirt with surprising strength. Legolas smiled, kneeling in front of her.

She felt him do so and waited until he was still. She slowly raised her hands to his face, her fingers brushing his blonde hair. She touched his cheeks, a slightly confused expression on her face. She could tell this was not one of her playmates yet she was intrigued to know who it was. Her questing hands explored his face, gathering a mental image of him. When her hands ventured over to the sides of his head and touched his ears, she stopped, surprised to feel their points. She gently ran her fingers back over them to reaffirm what she had felt. "An...an elf," she whispered, stunned. She ripped off her blindfold and stared at Legolas. When she saw him, she grinned, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "You're a real Elf!" she exclaimed. "What's your name?"

"Legolas Greenleaf," he replied. "What is yours?"

She opened her mouth to answer, and then stopped, her face downcast. "I...I don't got a name," she said, looking at the grass.

"Why is that?" Legolas asked, puzzled.

She shrugged. "My mommy and daddy never gave me one." She looked back up at him with a sheepish look. "I do got a nickname Uncle gave me, but it's long."

"What is it?"

"Caled-Veleg."

Legolas was startled when the Elvish words fell off the girl's tongue. To translate it in the Common Speech it would mean 'great light'. From the looks of her, she was not Elvish. Human more than likely. He smiled despite it and said, "Well, it fits your bright eyes."

The girl smiled and her eyes lit up, giggling. Her eyes did seem to shine brightly from within. Legolas found it strange that even though he and the girl were close, he could not tell what their exact color was.

A deafening crack like thunder exploded. He jerked back, covering his sensitive ears. The girl vanished. He looked around, trying to find her.

"What are you looking for?" a voice came from behind.

Legolas spun, unsheathing his knife and bringing it to the throat one the one who spoke.

No one was there.

"What are you looking for?"

Again he turned. No one.

"What are you looking for?"

The voice kept speaking, always from behind him. Legolas tried to locate the source but it was now coming from all directions. A presence appeared in front of him. A man in a black cloak, the hood drawn up to hide his features. Memories of the Black Riders made Legolas grimace, tightening his grip on his knife in case the man meant trouble. "What are you looking for?" the man asked, the other voices ceasing.

"Who are you?" said Legolas, raising his knife.

The ground shot up like tendrils, catching him off guard. They wrapped around his arms and legs, trapping him. He struggled to break free but they would not let go.

"That is none of your concern, Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood," spoke the man as he came closer to the trapped Elf.

Legolas froze, shocked at hearing his title spoken out loud. "How do you know who I am?" he asked.

"I know many things. Yet one I do not know is what it is you're searching for."

"Why do you wish to know?"

"What is it you seek?" pressed the man, ignoring Legolas' question.

Hesitantly, Legolas said, "Answers to my own questions."

The man's head moved up and down, nodding. He raised a hand and pointed to the right. "You are needed." As soon as he spoke, crashing, loud voices, and screams sounded from that direction. "There is a village of nothing but farmers being attack by a band of Orcs. The men and women are being slain, the children captured for their slaves. Any who show resistance is killed on sight. Will you go to assist them?" the man questioned.

"What is going on!" demanded the Elf, the screams cutting him to the core. They were the terrified screams of innocent victims, most women and children, just as the man had said. He could almost see them in his mind being cut down by Orcs. His blood boiled just at the thought.

"Would you go and assist them?" he said again.

"Yes!"

"Even if they were dwarves? Dwarves and Elves are fierce enemies, are they not? Would you help a bunch of clumsy, fat---"

"Why would that matter!" shouted Legolas, straining against his bonds. "If they are being butchered just for someone's perverse pleasure, I would go! Regardless of what they are!"

The man seemed stunned at his reply. "Are you satisfied now?" he asked, turning his back to Legolas and raising his head to the sky.

**_not really,_** replied a voice that resounded in Legolas' mind.

"Are you ever?" said the man, a smile in his voice. He turned back to Legolas. He reached up and pulled back his hood. His eyes, large and golden, glowed eerily.

Blackness swallowed Legolas once again.

---

Legolas shot up, breathing heavy. He was in the forest, night had already fallen. His eyes adjusted briefly as blood rushed to his head. He winced; rubbing the back of his head as it throbbed with pain. His hands were tied tightly together with twine at the wrists. He also saw that he was not alone.

"Awake at last, I see."

Sitting on the other side of a fire was the girl, glaring at Legolas over the flames. "I was wondering whether you had died from the smoke you inhaled." Her eyes narrowed. "It would have saved me the trouble of doing it myself."

"Where am I?" he asked, ignoring her words.

She smirked. "Nowhere where your cursed friends can help you now, Elf."

"And where is that?" he said, her words angering him.

"Why do you care so much?" she sneered.

Before he could reply, a form darted out of the woods and came beside the girl. It looked like a small black cat yet its face ended in a long muzzle like a dog's. It glanced at Legolas briefly before jumping into the girl's lap. The girl petted the cat, whispering to it softly. She looked back at Legolas, a curious gleam in her eyes. "Where are you headed, Elf?"

"Nowhere in particular," he said. He noticed the change in her mood yet that did not ease his mind. Something about the cat as well made him uneasy. It kept watching him as if it was suspicious of him.

"Traveling without a destination?" questioned the girl, laughing. "That's a stupid thing to do. Then again, you are an Elf."

"What is it about Elves that makes you hate us?" Legolas snapped, unable to stop the words from coming.

"You think I'll humor you and tell?" she shouted, her face twisting in anger. "Keep talking and I'll kill you here and now!"

"If you wanted to kill me, you could have done so when I was unconscious!" he pointed out.

The fire between them burst, blinding Legolas. The girl leapt from her place, grabbing him by the neck of his tunic. The force of her slamming into him caused him to fall back, his head striking the tree behind him. Her hand tightened its grip as she hissed, "Don't make me wish I had!" She took the dagger she had taken from the Uruk-Hai out of its sheath and held it up, the point close his eye. "And don't think I have compassion for you," she growled. "I would gladly kill you in the blink of an eye."

"If you do, you would have done so already," Legolas spat, his anger lashing out at her before he could stop himself.

Her eyes flashed in the darkness, then simmered with hate. "As I said before, I never make threats." She slowly pulled the dagger away from his face. "I only make dark promises."

Moving quicker than Legolas thought she was capable of, she shifted her position on him and drove the dagger into his left shoulder. His body jerked on reflex and he bit his tongue to keep the building cry of pain in; he would not allow her the pleasure of hearing him scream. Where the dagger touched him burned as if it were set a flame.

"Is this enough evidence, Elf?" she said, twisting the dagger and roughly pulling it down. "You had better keep in mind that it is not by my will that you are still alive!" She ripped the blade out and stood, walking around the fire back to her place. She gathered the cat in her arms and said, "If you want to sleep, go ahead. But be warned: do anything and I will kill you. You have my word on that." That said, she laid down on a bedroll. She was soon asleep.

Legolas stared at the girl, question after question running through his mind. Who was she? Why did she hate him? What was it about her that interested him so much? He sat up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. He studied it, seeing that the wound was deep and bleeding freely, the surrounding skin still burning. He searched for his pack but found it was beside the girl. He sighed, knowing he would have to wait for morning before he could tend to it.

"Confused yet?"

The Elf snapped to attention, eyes darting around to see who had spoken. He saw no one.

Except the cat sitting in front of him by the fire. He eyed the cat, thinking he was hearing things again.

"I assure you, you are not hearing things," spoke the cat. "Before you faint, scream, or do anything else other people usually do when I talk, let me say a few things," it went on.

Legolas could only nod as he stared.

"First: I am not a cat," it stated. "This is a form I take when we are in closely confined areas or around villages so I don't cause big problems. Second: you really need to learn when to shut your mouth. Third: Even though she does wish with all her being to kill you, I will not allow it. At least for now anyway." It paused, taking a breath. "Any questions?"

"What are you?" was the first thing out of his mouth.

The cat's lips pulled back in a smile. "I am no normal animal, as you have guessed. My origins come from the land you and the Free People have despised for so long. The true name of my species is one I do not like and therefore will not speak it. The Elves, however, have given my race a name I think is most appropriate. Can you guess what it is?"

Legolas studied the animal before him. As stated before, it mainly resembled a black cat. Then he noticed something: the creature's eyes were a golden yellow that had a blue shine to them when it blinked. Something about that was familiar to him, as if he had heard of such a creature. A word popped into his head and out his mouth.

"Mornie."

_Darkness_. A race of shape-shifters that had bred for centuries in Mordor. Their true form was unknown for they were a very secretive race. They had been spies for Sauron back when the One Ring had first been forged. They were hated by the Free People because of their deeds and most had been hunted and killed after Isildur took the Ring.

"Correct." Mornie glanced back at the girl then said in a low tone, "If I were you, I would get some sleep while I could. I will do my best to keep you alive, but I make no promises. Keep that mouth of yours shut and it could make my job a lot easier." He turned and scurried back to the girl.

"Why help me?" asked Legolas, still trying to absorb all the new information he had just gathered. He knew that of all the other Races, the Mornie resented the Elves most of all. Why one wanted to assist Legolas, he did not know.

"Because I know you will not harm her, Legolas. There are few of your kind that would not wish her own death for what she really is. Now get some sleep," he finished sternly, telling the Elf that was all he would say. He curled up beside the girl and was silent.

---

Sleep did not come easy for Legolas. His dreams were full of voices, whispering questions to him endlessly. Violent images of Orcs attacked all around while he could do nothing. The girl was in the mist of it all, her fire red eyes narrowed on him, all ways with hate and fear.

**_what are you looking for?_**

It was her voice that spoke, yet her mouth did not move. A form integrated beside her; the boy he had seen in the tree.

"Why do you wander?" said the boy.

"For answers," Legolas heard his own voice answer.

"Answers to what?" the boy continued.

"To the questions in my heart."

A smile spread across the boy's face. He and the girl started to fade. The voice of a child began to slowly drown out all other sound. It was singing.

_"Can you hear them?_

_This is their Plea..."_

---

"Wake up!"

A foot jabbed Legolas in his side, jarring him awake. His eyes shot open to see the girl leaning over him. She scoffed, backing away from him, "Get up, Elf. I'm in no mood for delays."

Legolas resisted the urge to make a sharp come back. Instead, he sat up, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder and watching the girl. She threw a handful of dirt on what was left of the fire, killing the embers. She stood, dusting her hands off on her dress.

It was then that Legolas saw her dress was stained with fresh blood on the side. It took a second before he realized it was the same area as the large slash she had the last time they met. She greatly favored that side, wincing when she bent over. Her arm had been hastily bandaged the previous night, dark red blotches staining the tattered fabric.

"You have two choices," the girl said to him, interrupting his thoughts. "One: do what I say and I may let you go. Two: don't do what I say and die."

"Not much of a choice," Legolas muttered.

The girl grabbed her whip and snapped it out, wrapping around his throat. "I'm not a morning person," she growled, pulling on it. "Don't push me." She released him, muttering to herself about Elves.

Legolas made a face behind her back, rubbing his neck with his bound hands. She was very swift, particularly with the whip. He knew he would have to be careful around her.

He was silent as the girl went around the small campsite, gathering her things and stuffing them into a pack she carried. As she rolled her bedroll, she said in an emotionless voice, "There's a village just east of here. I'm going there on business. If you stay here, I may let you go when I return." She set the roll aside and straightened, adjusting the pack on her back. Giving Legolas a vile glance she said, "If you stay there and don't move, that is." She turned to Mornie and muttered something to him.

Legolas grimaced on reflex when he heard the words she spoke, then stopped; it was the Mordor tongue in which she spoke. _How does she know that foul language?_

Mornie replied and the girl went off, glancing over her shoulder at Legolas. As soon as he knew she was out of hearing range, Legolas quickly looked around as he tried to find his weapons.

"They're right here," said Mornie, nimbly jumping over the remains of the campfire and poking around the girl's bedroll. He pulled out the Wood-Elf's bow by his teeth and dragged it over to him. He quickly retrieved his knife as well. When he set it down, he said in a hurried voice, "You must be quick. She hasn't got much time before they arrive."

Legolas, already picking up his knife and setting to work cutting his bonds, frowned, "What do you mean?"

Mornie gave him a look of disbelief. "You cannot hear them?" he questioned.

"Hear what?" Legolas replied, severing the last of the twine. His ears suddenly perked, catching a sound coming not far from where the girl said the village was. It sounded like footsteps, but there were too many and too heavy to be hers. It clicked in his mind. "Orcs?" he gasped, surprised he had not heard them sooner.

"Yes. Now hurry," Mornie repeated, dragging his quiver of arrows over to him. "They've just about reached the village. She won't be far behind them. You must run or else she and the village will be destroyed!"

Legolas threw his quiver around his shoulder, saying, "How do you know this?"

Mornie was silent before saying in a grave voice, "They were sent to do so. And she will let nothing stop her from killing all of them, not even her own death. Now, run!" He shouted the last urgently as they could both hear the sound of Orcs screaming in delight.

Legolas did, not looking back. If he had, he would have seen Mornie encircled by black fog, his small feline body mutating into something larger, deadlier.

There was a battle to be fought. It would not be the last.

----------

A. N. --- Poem/song thingy belongs to me.


	3. Chapter III: Plans

Chapter Three - Plans

The villagers ran around in a panicked rush, trying to get away from the Orcs that were attacking them. The creatures were swarming them faster than they could see, attacking anyone who got in their path. They slew many and injured countless, yet they seemed to be concerned mostly with the young girls in the village. Mainly the ones with blonde-brown hair. Whenever one poor girl's hair of the same hue flashed in the sunlight, the Orcs dove upon it.

Yet there was one who did not run from the Orcs. One who stood in the middle of all the chaos, the running villagers paying no heed. One watched the killing with a burning hatred in fiery red eyes. She stood, hand gripping her black leather whip in a tight fist, as the Orcs noticed her. Many snarled, recognizing her. "**_That's the one!_**" a call came from the back. "**_She's the girl we want!_**"

As the word spread, the Orcs left the villagers alone and concentrated on the girl. Soon she was surrounded by all the Orcs, each with a face as hard as stone. One Orc, a tall, heavy muscled creature with huge yellow eyes, stepped forward from the others. "**_Do you surrender?_**" he said in the rough voice of his homeland.

She was silent. She took her eyes off the leader and slowly stepped in a circle, looking at each Orc in turn then stopping. "**_As I have said before countless of times,_**" she replied, her voice speaking their words with perfected ease, "**_I will never return to that life. Your so-called 'mission' is useless._**"

"**_So you'd rather be taken by the Elves?_**" he said, smirking when he saw the terror in her face at just the mention of it.

Though shaking in fear at the thoughts in her head at how that would end, she said in a strong voice, "**_I was feeling merciful today. But now I'm thirsty._**" Her eyes narrowed and glowed, her face lit up like that of a madman. "**_Thirsty for blood!_**"

She threw out her hand, a ball of green fire forming in it then shooting at the lead Orc. It struck him in the chest and burned his armor, setting his entire body ablaze. A howl rose up from the Orcs as they made their advance. The girl glanced around, and then grinned insanely.

---

Legolas was as cautious as he could be upon entering the village. There were still people running about but other than that it was void of human life. If he had been any other creature he would have thought it void of all life. But he could hear sounds of a battle going on near the middle of the village. Though the confusing shouts of the Orcs, he picked out the girl's own voice, yelling fiercely in Morgul. Again, he questioned how she had come to know the language.

He pushed the thought out of his mind as he saw something fall down from the sky and land in front of him. It was the body of an Orc. The Elf tensed, his arrow ready to be released. But the Orc was already dead; his neck had been snapped as was evident by the way his head twisted all the way around. Legolas quickly jumped, landing on a nearby rooftop. He scanned the area and spotted a thin trail of smoke rising from the center of the houses. He ran to the end of the roof and landed on the next. He went from roof to roof, eyes set on the smoke, which was growing thicker and appearing in more places. He stopped on a rooftop that edged the smoke and looked down.

Legolas was stunned at the scene before him. Countless bodies of Orcs littered the ground, many either smoking or still burning, blood was everywhere and the stench was horrible. He saw that even though there were many dead, there were still many more alive. They were chasing the girl who ran around in large circles, confusing the slower creatures. When one got near her, she shot out a ball of green fire and it instantly fell dead. One Orc managed to predict where she would end up and went to grab her. She snapped her whip across its face, striking its eyes and blinding it. She reached to her side and pulled out her dagger, driving it deep in the Orc's chest. She withdrew it and rotated, slashing open another Orc's stomach. She turned to face the on coming Orcs, not even pausing to catch her breath.

Getting over his shock at her fighting, Legolas shot his bow, taking down an Orc near the back of the group. The girl spared a glance in his direction and glared, shouting a curse at him while slitting an Orc's throat. He ignored her and continued firing his arrows. The wound in his shoulder was burning with pain at his movements and he could feel the blood dripping down arm. He forced himself to focused over the pain. He could worry about it later.

A vibration ran up his body from the house he was on. A few of the Orcs felt it as well and stopped. Legolas felt a familiar presence coming from behind. A presence that was strangely mental as well as physical to him. Turning, he saw the huge black beast from the day before approaching. It looked at him, smiling in its own way.

**_not too late am I, LEGOLAS? _**the mental voice spoke.

"Just in time, Mornie," Legolas found himself saying as he realized that it was indeed Mornie.

Mornie made a soft growl as he looked down at the Orcs who were paralyzed by his presence. A long, thin grey tongue lolled out of Mornie's great muzzle, licking his chops in anticipation. **_good,_** Mornie then pounced on the Orcs. They scattered, screaming something in a terrified tone to their comrades.

Legolas paid them no heed as he let loose another arrow, hitting one in the eye. He noticed Mornie was rounding the Orcs up, keeping them from escaping. When they were all back in one place, Mornie crouched down. The back half of his body shifted then stretched, becoming mist. It wrapped around the area, encircling the Orcs and trapping them. When it was done, he made a mummer that caught the girl's attention. **_the reinforcements will be coming soon, _**he said, jerking his head towards the woods.

"Right!" she replied. She sheathed her dagger and flung her whip into the air. Mornie caught it in his mouth. She ran and jumped, landing on a rooftop near Legolas. "Put that bow up, Elf!" she snapped. "It won't be of any use now!" Legolas glared at her but did so, waiting to see what she would do.

The girl closed her eyes, raising her hands in front of her chest a few inches apart. A soft light outlined her form. Her hands slowly began to move, making a motion as if to cup a sphere. Her fingers twisted and groped, the light around her beginning to concentrate around their tips.

Legolas found himself staring at her. A slow wind had begun to build up, swirling around her hands and blowing her hair away from her face. For the first time, Legolas saw something he had not thought of.

She was beautiful.

Never had one's face seemed so attractive to him before. The only other one who had was the Lady Galadriel, but still it was a close match. He could not help but wonder more about her. Not for the last time, he wondered who she really was.

Her eyes opened, a red light spilling from them onto her face as she turned her fiery gaze to the Orcs trembling before her.

"Burn!"

She screamed the word and threw her arms out. A spark then a huge blast of fire flew from her outstretched arms. The fire slammed onto the ground consuming everything it touched. The Orcs ran around, trying to get away. Mornie made sure that no Orc escaped.

Legolas surveyed the damage done to the village when the fire had died down. Most of the buildings were intact; a few had holes in them but were stable. The Orcs were now all dead. Life should return to normal soon. He jumped off the roof as Mornie shifted forms, becoming the small cat. Legolas looked up at the girl, who was still standing in the roof. "Are you all right?" he called up to her.

She did not answer; she was staring straight ahead.

Legolas frowned in concern. "Are you all right?" he said again.

No answer. Suddenly she swayed before collapsing, rolling down the side of the roof. Legolas rushed to the side of the house and caught her. She was unconscious, her face strained as if she was in pain. He felt his hands touch something slick and wet. He saw that her side was soaked with blood. Instinctively, he set her down and ripped open the side of her dress, exposing the wound. There were bandages wrapped around it but they were old and soiled. He removed them quickly. He was astonished to see that it was indeed the same wound she had when they had first met, only bigger and from the looks of it deeper. It was bleeding without a sign of ceasing and a bad infection had set in.

"What's wrong?" said Mornie, running up to them. He saw the wound and gasped. His eyes narrowed and he growled, "That cursed Orc!"

"What sort of wound is this?" questioned Legolas as he ripped his cloak into strips to bandage her. "It has gotten worse since the last time I saw her!"

"I would expect as much," said Mornie gravely, "seeing as though she never used that medicine you gave her."

"Why not?"

Mornie did not reply, eyes training intently on the girl's face. When Legolas had finished with the bandaging, he said, "This is no ordinary wound, Legolas. She needs treatment immediately, but only that of a skilled healer will help her now."

Legolas searched his memory, trying to think of a healer he knew of nearby. He stopped, realizing something. "Where exactly are we?" he asked.

Mornie hesitated, and then said, "We are nowhere near Mirkwood where we found you. We are on the other side of the Misty Mountains." Before Legolas could say anything, he said, "Do you know the Elf Lord Elrond?"

"Yes," said Legolas, puzzled. Then he saw what Mornie was thinking of. "How far away are we from Rivendell?"

"By land: a few weeks," said Mornie, shaking his head. He stopped as a thought struck him. He then grinned and said, "But by air: a few minutes."

Legolas frowned. "'By air'?"

Mornie backed up a bit, and then closed his eyes. A black mist enveloped him. Then his small feline body shot up, stretching, twisting, growing, and expanding. The mist parted to reveal a great black dragon with gold eyes looking down from high in the air. **_quickly_**, he spoke to Legolas. **_pick her up and climb on. we've already wasted enough time_**.

Legolas did so. He wondered how he would manage to hold on to the girl and yet keep them both from falling. When he was seated astride Mornie's long, thick neck, Mornie crouched down and pumped his wings, leaping into the air. Legolas nearly fell back from the speed at which Mornie flew. He caught himself and tightened his grip on the girl.

Despite the hate and lust for his death she had, he would not let her fall to her own death. He looked down at her face, sympathy washing over him when he saw her grimace, moaning in pain from her wound. Something inside him told him that there was more to her actions than he thought. He hoped he would be able to ask her about it later.

Glancing down, he saw they were covering a lot of ground. Already the villages were getting fewer and fewer. They would reach Rivendell in no time at all.

"Why are we on the other side of the mountains?" he asked Mornie, trying to pass the time as well as finding out how he had ended up there.

**_because she thought that your allies were not far from where we found you_**, he replied. **_she told me to take you and her and get on the other side, as far away as I could while I was DREAM HASTENING with you._**

"'Dream Hastening'?" repeated Legolas, confused at the term.

**_DREAM HASTENING: I combined your consciousness with my own. I did so because I had felt no animosity from you and believed you would do her no harm. she however was convinced an army of Elves were right behind you so I tested you to prove her wrong_**.

"How did you do that?"

**_a few case scenarios. for instance, a small girl playing a game with her friends. she stumbles upon you, thinking you to be one of her playmates, and 'looks' at you with her hands. normally one would push her away since they would want to get out of the strange world they had been thrust into. you did not. you allowed her to satisfy her childish curiosity and spoke kindly to her, even when she herself spoke strangely. you were worried when she suddenly disappeared. you said you would help a village in trouble, even one of dwarves. that is what proved to me you would be able to help her._**

"Help her? How?"

Mornie fell silent. Then he began to descend. **_we are approaching RIVENDELL. I must shift to my smaller form to avoid being killed. they already know I am in the area, though_**.

"Stay with me and I will make sure they will not harm you or her," swore Legolas.

Mornie chuckled, the sound echoing in Legolas' mind as he landed.

Legolas got off and waited until Mornie was in his cat form. Mornie jumped into the foliage, saying something about going ahead. Legolas ran, knowing that he must not waste any time if he could help it. He nearly flew over the land, dodging the trees and rocks and any other obstruction. A voice inside was urging him on, making him push himself harder and harder. _Faster! Swifter! Hurry!_ His far-seeing eyes could begin to make out the dwelling of Lord Elrond and he moved even faster, the driving force inside him increasing his strength.

"LEGOLAS!"

The voice shouted from down the road. A white horse stood, pawing at the ground, its rider clad in shimmering white robes. Legolas shouted back, "Gandalf!" When he finally reached him, Legolas stopped just in front of the wizard.

"Legolas, what is this? You leave for travel scarcely three months ago from Mirkwood and appear on none other than Elrond's doorstep! Injured and carrying a wounded maiden as well!"

"I know," said Legolas, recovering his breath. "But I must hurry to Lord Elrond. This girl is in need of his healing aid. She has a strange wound that will not heal."

Gandalf nodded and dismounted his horse, Shadowfax. "Set her on him, Shadowfax will take her Elrond while we follow behind." He saw the hesitance in the young Elf's face and said, "He will not let her fall." Sighing, Legolas gently seated her on the horse while Gandalf talked to it in a soothing tone. Shadowfax whinnied, tossing its head slightly before shooting off like a bolt in the distance. "Let us go as well," Gandalf said, making his way down the slightly sloping ground. "Tell me, Legolas," he said after a while, "who is that young woman?"

Legolas started to answer but stopped. Truth be told, he knew nothing about her; not even her name! What was he to say?

"She is a girl traveling to escape the demons from her past."

The wizard and Elf both were startled when Mornie jumped from the side of the trail and landed in front of their path. When Gandalf set eyes on the creature, he rose up, shouting, "Cursed being of Mordor! Why are you here?"

Seeing what he was about to do, Legolas got between Gandalf and Mornie, shouting, "Wait, Gandalf! Do not harm him!"

At his words, Gandalf paused, staring in surprise at Legolas. "Do you know what he is?" he said, astonished.

"I know that he had my life spared when it would have been easier for him had I been killed," replied Legolas. "Do not harm him. Please."

Gandalf thought for a long time, deciding what his course of action would be. At last, he said, "Fine, Legolas. Since you trust this creature, I will as well." He turned to Mornie. "Forgive my harsh words."

"They are not harsh, Lord Wizard," said Mornie. "I hold no anger or insult to them." He turned and said, "We should be moving on. I am anxious to see her well again."

"Mornie," said Legolas, following him, "what is her name anyway?"

"I'm surprised, Legolas," he said, mock shock in his voice. "You haven't realized it yet?" He chuckled, then grew serious. "Though I have many abilities, one I do not have great skill in is creating a suitable 'person' for when I Dream Hasten. So I instead used her when I Dream Hastened with you; when she was a child, that is."

"Then her name is..." Legolas was too stunned at this statement to finish. The small girl that loved Elves was the same as the one who wanted to kill him just for being one?

"Caled-Veleg," Mornie finished for him.

---

Legolas sat in the hallway outside the room where Lord Elrond was healing the girl, Caled-Veleg. He shifted in his seat unconsciously, ignoring the dull pain it brought from his shoulder. Elrond had offered to heal him, but Legolas insisted that Elrond focus only on Caled-Veleg. So he instead had a servant tend to his wound while he went to heal the girl. The servant had told Legolas that what had cut him was not a normal blade; it had an enchantment of some sort upon it.

Soft footsteps reached his ears. He looked up to see Elrond and Gandalf approaching him. Both had worried and confused looks on their faces. Legolas stood, bowing slightly to Elrond, who, the young Elf Prince noticed, was slightly pale and had a slight stagger in his step. "Is everything all right?" asked Legolas.

"Yes and no," said Elrond. "Legolas, where did you meet this girl? Who or what is she?"

Puzzled, Legolas answered, "I encountered her for the first time just outside of Mirkwood territory, about two weeks ago. Who she is, I only know that her name is Caled-Veleg. As for what she is, she is human as far as I know." He saw the question and frustration run through the Elf Lord's face and asked, "Why? What happened?"

"A very strange thing," said Gandalf, sitting down. "I was present when Elrond tried to heal her." He snorted, shaking his head. "And there were twenty healers. Amazing. Simply amazing."

"What do you mean 'tried to heal'?" repeated Legolas, worry in his voice. "She is healed...is she not?"

"Legolas," Elrond spoke up, "the most we could do now was get rid of the infection and made sure it would not come back."

"Is she all right, though?" Legolas pressed.

Elrond smiled at the younger Elf. "Yes. She lost a lot of blood, but she will be fine with plenty of rest."

Relief washed over Legolas as he let out a slow breath. "Thank you, Lord Elrond." he said, bowing.

Elrond waved him off, saying there was no need for thanks. When he was gone, the Elf Lord turned to the Wizard, saying in a low tone, "Would you believe me, Gandalf, if I said her body rejected our healing magic?"

Gandalf met Elrond's eyes. "That is putting it mildly, Elrond. It's a miracle you could heal the infection, let alone prevent it from reoccurring. And that gash on her arm…well, let us hope she is a fast healer."

Elrond nodded as Gandalf stood and they walked through the halls. "In all my long years I have only encountered such a thing as this one other time, and that was just before the War of the Ring began."

Gandalf nodded, knowing what he meant. "But how can this child be one of them? They are extinct."

Elrond was silent before he said in a faraway voice, "Shadows exist because there is life. We will never be rid of their ilk. Ever."

"What about what Legolas said?" said Gandalf, changing the subject to a more pressing matter.

"The Orc attacks?" Elrond shrugged. "I wish I knew, myself. It has been a year since the Ring was destroyed and yet the Orc and Uruk-Hai alike both seem to be thriving at an alarming rate. Strangely, we do not know exactly where they seem to be coming from."

"I believe the child knows," muttered Gandalf.

"'Child'?" Elrond repeated, a smile on his face. "You speak as if she was one." He stopped and looked at the old wizard with a stern and apprehensive face. "If she is indeed what she appears to be, then she may as well be older than I am."

Gandalf said nothing. He could not because at that moment a scream and several crashes emitted from the room they both had just exited from. They exchanged an alarmed glance before hurrying back. The door was thrown open from the inside; breaking in two, and one of the maids was sent sailing through and landed on the floor.

"**_What is going on?_**" Elrond demanded as he and Gandalf entered the room.

Inside the rooms, three attendants were tying their best to calm the girl down. When she had come to, one of them had asked if she was feeling all right. She had immediately grabbed him by his head and flung him into the wall, screaming. She had leapt up, throwing a chair at the maid whom had tried to restrain her, now in the hallway. She was now huddled in a corner, muttering something in Morgul while her red eyes flickered with terror. Her shaking hands were grasping her head as if trying to keep something out of her mind.

As Elrond spoke to the attendants, Gandalf studied the girl with a curious gaze. Suddenly, he gasped softly. "Elrond," he said in a strong voice, "leave the room. Everyone, now!"

Elrond started to protest. "Gandalf, the girl is wild. You don't know what she--"

"I know what I'm doing," interrupted Gandalf, keeping his eyes on the girl.

Reluctantly, Elrond ordered the attendants out and he followed, shutting the door as best as he could without more of it breaking. Gandalf slowly walked over to the girl bending down on one knee. "Child," he spoke in a soft, calming tone.

The girl stiffened, then raised her head.

"I will not harm you," he reassured her.

She slowly nodded.

---

Gandalf emerged from the room an hour later, a dark light in his eyes one could take for anger. He said a few words to Elrond then went off to search for Legolas.

The Wood-Elf was just outside, a ways away from the Last Homely House. He was perched on a boulder, talking to Mornie. The Elves of Rivendell refused to have the creature inside, regardless of what Legolas told them.

"They said she will be fine," said Legolas, finishing the report on Caled-Veleg's health.

"It is a wonder she managed to survive reactivating that blasted wound again," Mornie murmured, scratching his cat head.

Legolas frowned. "Mornie, how did she get that wound?"

Mornie was silent, thinking, before he replied, "It is not my place to say. But I will say that the weapon she received the wound from was a cursed one. It had a spell on it that reversed the healing process, making the inflicted wound grow larger and deeper as well as making it more prone to infection. I am just thankful the Elves managed to remove most of the spell."

Legolas nodded, not knowing what else to say. Gandalf appeared at that moment, slightly out of breath. "Legolas," he said, reaching them, "you must come with me at once."

"Why? Has something happened?" asked Legolas, fear for the girl stabbing at his heart.

Gandalf waved his hand, saying, "Caled is fine. New information has been found on the Orcs and Lord Elrond has requested your presence immediately."

The Wood-Elf did not pause as he leapt up and ran beside Gandalf. Mornie let out a slow breath. "So...it begins..."

---

Legolas and Gandalf entered the War Room. Elrond was already there, a large map of Middle-Earth spread out on the table he was standing near. "We will begin as soon as she arrives," said Elrond.

The door on the other side of the room opened and Caled-Veleg stepped through, snapping dark words at the maids that were behind her. She appeared to be all right, though she favored her left arm. Legolas could not help but stare at her. She was clothed in a simple yet elegant green dress that hugged her form snuggly. The skirt was straight yet did not hinder her walking. Her hair was flowing around her shoulders, smooth like silk.

"Lady Caled-Veleg," greeted Elrond, nodding his head as she reached the table.

"Elrond," she replied in an emotionless voice, standing beside Gandalf. Her eyes flickered from Elrond to Legolas before she said, "I do not wish to stay in this place a moment longer than need be so let's just cut to the core of this meeting." She took a breath and said, "I shall inform you all of what I know of the Orc invasion. Don't ask how I know and don't ask any questions about what I say."

She studied the map for a second before saying, "As you know, Orcs have been reappearing at an alarming rate." They all nodded. "Where they are coming from is almost unpredictable; they show up suddenly just outside of the villages and towns they attack." She took a quill pen off the table and made several markings on the map. The majority of the markings were placed on the West wide of the Misty Mountains with only a few on the east side, near Mirkwood. "These are the major attacks the Orcs have made," she said. She then made more markings scattered around the others. "And these are only a few of the several locations Orcs have appeared in without incident."

"That is just in forest area," said Legolas, something about all this seemed familiar to him. "Either that or places where no one permanently lives."

"Exactly," Caled-Veleg cut in, glaring at Legolas. "They show up there, gathering together with other nearby Orcs, then disappear. No one is around to see them, so no one can report it to anyone else. That collected group then shows up either at the target or another uninhabited area and gather more members before attacking. Yet there are no trails that suggest any travel short of the Orcs entering or exiting the villages. Therefore it is logical to think they are being transported by another means."

"You suggest that someone is magically moving them around?" Gandalf asked.

Caled-Veleg nodded. "Not only that but the attacks are far too organized and thought out to have been devised by the Orcs themselves. It is obvious someone is behind them."

She set the quill down and gestured to the bottom part Map she had marked on. "The further south you go, the smaller the groups are and the more scattered they become. However, the further north you go," she motioned to the top part, "the larger the groups are and the closer they are to each other." She looked up. "Whoever is sending them must be in the north," she explained. "If they are sent further away from the source of the magic, they are scattered. But the closer they are to the source, the greater the amount is in each group." She looked back down to the map, running a hand up along the path of the Misty Mountains. "If you follow the path of the attacks, they lead you here," she said, pointing to the location.

Mount Gundabad, in the Grey Mountains of the North.

"That is where they are coming from," Caled-Veleg stated, as if daring anyone to debate with her.

All three were staring at the Map, absorbing this valuable information. At length, Elrond spoke. "If what you say is true, then we must find out who is doing this."

"I have no reason to lie," said Caled-Veleg, crossing her arms.

"The something must be done," interrupted Gandalf before she could say anything else. "Someone must go to Mount Gundabad and see what is going on up there."

"I will go."

The words were spoken in unison by Legolas and Caled-Veleg. The girl shot a dark look at Legolas, saying, "I am the one who has been tracking them thus far, so I will do it!"

"You are not only injured but prone to the Orcs wrath!" protested Legolas. "And the Orcs seem to be tracking you rather than vice versa."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she demanded. "And why would an Elf want to go anyway!"

"Both of you will go," the calm voice of Elrond cut in, silencing them both. "Lady Caled-Veleg shall go because she has the most knowledge of this situation. Prince Legolas shall go as a representative of the Elves and escort."

Caled-Veleg started to say something, but Gandalf stopped her by holding up a hand. She backed down but snarled at Elrond. "You both shall leave on the morrow," the wizard said, turning to leave. "Until then, get your things in order."

---

Caled-Veleg snatched up a vase that stood on a pedestal in the room she was lent and hurled it at the wall, growling. She paced the length of the room, muttering curses to herself. "Cursed Elves!" she raged.

**_it's not like you to throw a temper tantrum._**

"Shut up, Mornie!" she shouted. She glared through the windows at the tiny black spot on top of the garden wall, knowing Mornie could hear her.

**_as you wish_**, he replied, a smirk in his 'voice'.

The door to her room opened. Her head snapped up as she grabbed another vase, ready to throw it. Gandalf stepped in. She let out her breath, lowering the vase as she said, "Oh, it's just you, Gandalf."

"Who did you think I was?" he asked, slightly amused.

"That Elf Lord for one thing," she said, replacing the vase on the stand. She sneered, "Or that blasted Prince." She gave Gandalf a suspicious look. "Why is that Elf going?" she said, loathing flashing in her eyes at just the thought. "Why didn't you protest?"

"Caled," said Gandalf gently, "you are wounded and it will take some time until you are fit enough to defend yourself. Legolas will accompany you on this journey. And there's nothing you will say to stop this," he added sternly.

**_I have been ordered to make sure you don't kill him either, CALED_**, said Mornie. Caled-Veleg told Mornie exactly where he could shove his orders.

Gandalf chuckled, then grew quite serious as Caled-Veleg sat down on the bed, her hands clenching and unclenching. He sighed and walked over to sit by her. "Caled," he said, catching her attention. "Legolas is not the person you perceive him as."

She raised her head but did not reply, doubt and fear in her eyes. She stood, coming to a stop by the window. She looked out into the courtyard, silently marveling at its beauty. She stopped when the Elf in discussion came into view on the other side. She quickly drew the curtains before he noticed her. "Regardless of what he is really like," she said in a shaking voice, turning back to Gandalf, "I cannot wipe my memory of that horrid life away so easily. You've separated what was real and what was not, but still I have that fear within me." She rubbed a hand over her heart, feeling it pound in her chest. "And greater is the fear I have of myself than of the Elf." She dropped her gaze, whispering, "I don't know what will happen to me if..." She trailed off, unable to finish.

"That is why Legolas is the only person fit to be your companion," said Gandalf, standing. "He will do nothing to hurt you, Caled. If you ask it, he will stay away."

"I...I know that," she said. "I just can't trust him, Gandalf."

"Trust is something that you need to learn," said the wizard firmly yet gently. "And he is the one that can teach it to you."

Caled-Veleg sighed, knowing it was useless to argue. "I will do as you wish."

---

The next day came early for the two travelers. Before dawn had broken they were up, gathering any final supplies they needed. Since most of the journey would be over mountainous lands, a horse or even a pony would be more of a burden, so they were going on foot. They departed from the North of Rivendell, Gandalf walking with them as he gave last minute advice.

"Stay close to the Mountains and the trail will be simple," the wizard said as they reached the end of Rivendell territory. "Well, off with you two. Be careful."

"We will, Gandalf," Legolas assured him.

Caled-Veleg nodded her head, not speaking, and started off, Mornie right after her in his cat form.

"Legolas," said Gandalf before the Elf left. "Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight," he said hurriedly. "Never leave her alone, especially if you stop in a village. And above all else: do not let any man touch her."

"What?" Legolas was confused at this. "Why?"

"Do not ask questions, just listen to me," was all Gandalf said before he turned and started back.

Legolas stared after him, wishing he knew what was going on.

"Hey, Elf!"

He turned to see Caled-Veleg standing a few yards away. "You coming or not?" she shouted. Without waiting to hear his answer, she continued on her way.

Legolas sighed, shaking his head as he went after her. It was going to be a very, very, very long journey.

----------


	4. Chapter IV: Weakness

Chapter Four - Weakness

When Legolas and the girl, Caled-Veleg, had left Rivendell, many of its inhabitants talked about their journey. And about the girl. Yet, there were two who did not. They were silent as they went about their everyday business, but their ears missed nothing. Within three days after the Elf Prince and girl had left, the two decided to make their move. They had completed their objective, now it was time to deliver it. Why not throw in an extra bonus to sweeten the deal?

The following day, Gandalf was searching around his quarters, muttering to himself, "Where did I put that blasted pipe?"

---

Legolas ducked a low-hanging branch of a tree, pulling it back so Caled-Veleg would not be hit by it. As she passed, she shot him a dark look. Legolas rolled his eyes once she could not see him. It had been that way since they had left Rivendell. She hardly said a word and when she did it was usually a snide remark. Legolas was getting annoyed. He could see no reason why she was acting like this, yet he said nothing. Mornie glanced at him from his place on Caled-Veleg's shoulder.

**_you're not the only one annoyed_**, he said so she would not hear.

Legolas smiled a bit at that. Mornie had also said he was perplexed at her actions--or lack thereof towards the Elf.

That was another thing. She never called him by his name. It was all ways 'Elf'. It was as if she was deliberately trying to distance herself using every means necessary. While he found that she was being unnerving and juvenile, Legolas could not help but also feel drawn to her more and more with each time she did it. He could not explain it, but something about this girl intrigued him so much that he put up with her acts with hope that she would open up to him. That he would be able to find out the answers to the confusing questions in his head that would not leave him alone. That they would get to know each other. That they would become closer.

Then Legolas would shake his head, realizing be was just being stupid. The girl hated him. There was no way she would consciously open up to him.

"Hmm, closer than I thought."

Her voice broke through his thoughts. She had stopped just on top of a hill leading down into a village. She was studying the village intently. "No Orcs," she said, mostly to herself.

"We should go around so we don't draw attention," Legolas suggested, already heading in a direction around the village.

Caled-Veleg snorted and rolled her eyes. "Leave it to an Elf to suggest something so dumb."

Legolas stopped, his temper threatening to get the better of him. "Excuse me?" he said in a level tone, facing her.

"Going around would take too long and we don't have any time to waste," she said as she began to carefully go down the hill. "The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. We'll just go through the village." Legolas started to protest but she cut him off by saying, "You can hide your features with that hood of yours, Elf. So don't complain, just walk."

Legolas took a deep breath to calm himself down before following her.

Just before entering the village, they stopped to make sure Legolas' hood properly shielded his ears and Mornie was safely hidden in Caled-Veleg's pack. They entered, hurrying as best they could through the late-afternoon crowd. The further they got into the village, the more people seemed to be in the streets. A few times Legolas almost lost track of Caled-Veleg. He began to walk closer beside her, not wanting to break his promise to Gandalf and be separated from her.

Caled-Veleg, however, was not so eager to walk beside him. Every time he got closer, she would grit her teeth and walk a little faster until there was enough space between them. Yet he all ways caught up to her. She had had enough. Grabbing his cloak, she jerked him around to face her. "Keep your distance, Elf!" she hissed. She pushed him away, turning to continue. She did not see the man that was trying to cut between them and ran into him. She lost her balance and stumbled backwards.

Before Legolas could register what had happened, a large, burly man caught Caled-Veleg before she fell. To both Legolas' shock and anger, the man's hand had found its way around Caled-Veleg's breast. "She's a cutie!" the man laughed to his friends, who started laughing in return.

So many things ran through Legolas' mind of what he wanted to do at that point, that he failed to see Caled-Veleg's hand and what it was going for.

"Get your hands OFF ME!" she screamed, spinning around in the man's grasp. In her hand was her dagger. She slashed it across the man's eyes. He bellowed in pain and released her, causing her to fall back.

"My eyes!" the man screamed. "That bitch cut my eyes!"

Caled-Veleg sat there on the ground, stunned. Legolas quickly came beside her. "Come on, let's go!" he whispered, noticing the crowd was gathering around them, some whispering angrily. He stopped when he noticed she did not respond.

Caled-Veleg's eyes were wide and her breathing was getting heavy. Suddenly, her pupils shrunk to pin points and she shrieked. She scrambled up, thrashing around while she ran, screaming at the top of her lungs, "GET AWAY!" Her quick movement caused her pack to slip off. Legolas snatched it up and followed, careful to avoid pedestrians.

Mornie poked his head out of the pack. "What happened?" he said.

"I don't know!" replied Legolas.

Caled-Veleg tore through the streets, cutting through anyone who had the misfortune to get in her way. She did not stop even when she had reached the forest.

"Let me out!" Mornie told Legolas. He did so and the two followed on foot. **_CALED!_** Mornie called out to her with his mind. **_CALED! stop!_**

Legolas' eyes could see her, abruptly stopping upon hearing him. Her foot caught on an upturned root and she was sent tumbling to the ground. "No!" Legolas gasped, his heart constricting in his chest. He rushed down the slope and stopped. She was at the bottom of the slope, curled into a ball. Her hair had been thrown over her face, yet he could hear the sobs she was making.

"Get them way...get them away...get them away..."

"Caled-Veleg," said Legolas as he softly made his way to her. "It's me. Are you all right?" He knelt beside and brushed her hair away from her face. She was staring aimlessly in front of her, her eyes dilated. At his light touch she shuddered and drew back, whimpering.

"Crap!" Mornie said under his breath. "Legolas! Back away from her! Now!" His voice was tight with worry and fear.

"What's wrong?" demanded Legolas, though he did as Mornie said.

"It's not my place to say," was all he said as he was encircled by the mist. When it parted he was--to Legolas' surprise--in the form of a young man with black hair and bright gold eyes, dressed in clothes of black linen. Mornie quickly went to Caled-Veleg, carefully lifting her head to look him in the face and whispering, "It's me, Mornie. Come on. It's okay. They're gone, Caled. They're gone."

For a few tense moments, she did nothing, and then she threw her arms around Mornie and started crying uncontrollably. Mornie gently embraced her, speaking in a soothing tone to calm her down while rubbing her back in a circular motion.

Legolas saw nothing he could do to help, so he sat back and waited. But inside him, he wished with all his being that he could help her. He really did.

---

Night had fallen hours ago, yet Legolas was still up. His nerves were still on edge from that afternoon. He watched the fire in front of him, the shadows flickering around them. He soon shifted his gaze to Mornie, who sat opposite him, still in human form. "Can you explain anything at all?" Legolas asked, hoping for answers.

Mornie kept his eyes on the fire. Had it not been for those vivid eyes and the pale color of his human skin, the being would have blended into the night. "I cannot explain as much as I'd like, Legolas. Much of it--such as the reason behind her…actions--is only hers to share." He turned his head and looked at Caled-Veleg, who was lying in the ground with her back to the fire, fast asleep. He sighed, feeling helpless about the whole situation.

"Will you say what you can?" Legolas said next. "Mornie, if I am to be traveling with her for a long time then I want to know if there is anything I can do to prevent this from happening again."

Again, Mornie sighed. "She is unable to handle a touch from a man. That is all I can say. If it were to happen again, she might not calm down. For some reason she usually does if I'm in this form," he said with a shrug. "I use it when that happens, you see. It seems to be the only thing that can bring her out of it."

"If only we could make her calm down," Legolas mused to himself.

"We cannot decide her emotions for her, Legolas," Mornie cut in. "How can we even think to control another's emotions when we scarcely have control over our own?"

Silence came over both of them, each with his own thoughts. For the Elf, the questions that continued to haunt him. For the being of Mordor, dilemmas ran through his mind. Moments passed then Mornie broke the silence, by saying, "If you don't mind me asking, what went through your mind?"

"What?" Legolas said, puzzled.

"When that man grabbed her earlier," Mornie said, sitting up straighter, "what did you want to do? Answer honestly; I don't care how stupid or vague it seems."

Legolas sat back, thinking. "It happened so fast, I can barely remember all of it completely myself. I can recall, though, that when I had just seen him catch her, I felt as if I just wanted to get her out of his hands, that no one should touch her..." He trailed off, pausing to recollect. "Then when I saw where he had grabbed her, I wanted to kill him. I seriously did. I can remember thinking 'How dare this dirty animal touch her? I'm going to kill him.' Had she not pulled out her dagger on him, I don't doubt I would have."

"What about when we landed here?" Mornie asked next, motioning to the area around them. "When she was crying?"

"I felt as if I had been stabbed," Legolas said honestly. "When I saw her crying, I just wanted to comfort her. I wanted to make whatever was hurting her stop and go away forever. I wanted to protect her."

"Why do you think that?" Mornie said, his voice slightly low, yet still conversational.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know why you thought all of that? You barely know her and she is making it obvious that she wants it to stay that way." His eyes watched Legolas' every move. It was as if Mornie was trying to get the Elf to admit to something.

"I don't know," said Legolas, shaking his head. "But I do want to know her better, regardless of how she has treated me."

Mornie studied Legolas with something akin to a suspicious shine in his eyes, yet he was smiling. "What would you say if I told you the answer was quite obvious?" Before Legolas could reply, he shifted into his cat form and started off into the woods, saying, "I'm going to scout around and make sure none of the villagers tried to follow us this far."

When he had left, Legolas' thought turned to the question. It was obvious? What was it? His response at Mornie's questions had surprised himself. He remembered what he had truly felt when the man grabbed her.

He felt as if he was the only one who should touch her. The feeling was so strong it frightened him.

When she had broken down and cried, every one of her sobs tore at his insides like knives. He had wanted to do everything within his power and beyond to soothe her but he could do nothing. He had never before felt so useless. He silently vowed that he would never leave her; that he would protect her from anything that would hurt her.

Mornie's words echoed in his mind. _Do you know why you thought all of that? What would you say if I told you the answer was quite obvious?_

"What is it?" Legolas thought out loud. His pale blue eyes moved to gaze at Caled-Veleg. She had never before seemed so defenseless than that afternoon. Legolas knew that everything was an act. She was trying to appear as if she feared nothing, yet she was extremely vulnerable. Her hatred towards him he did not doubt. Again, she intrigued him. He felt drawn to her.

_What would you say if I told you the answer was quite obvious?_

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. It would simply be a riddle that would remain unsolved for the time being. He glanced over at Caled-Veleg, the urge to protect her once again rising. He sighed again.

Before Legolas lay down to rest, he whispered softly to her sleeping form, "Why are you so intriguing?"

Mornie came back shortly after, yet even he missed something.

Caled-Veleg had been awake.

---

The next morning, no one spoke of the happenings of the day before though it was on their minds.

"We should get going immediately," Mornie said as the other two gathered their things. "We lost some ground and we need to start now if we want to regain it."

Legolas nodded. Caled-Veleg seemed to be thinking about something. Just before they began to leave, she spoke up, " Elf."

He with held a grimace and faced her. "What is it?"

"Hold out your hands," she ordered.

"What?" he said.

"Hold out your hands now," she repeated curtly.

Hesitantly, Legolas did so. Caled-Veleg pulled something out of her pack and placed it in his outstretched hands. It was an egg. "What is this for?" Legolas asked, wondering if she had gone insane.

"A test," she replied, shrugging on her pack and starting to walk off. When Legolas had caught up with her, she said, "We're going to be traveling for a long time and it would be painfully boring not speaking at all. However, I do not trust you," she said with a glare. "So here is what the egg is for: in two weeks time, I'll ask for it again. If it is marred in anyway or breaks beforehand, you will never have my trust. If it is not," she paused, taking a breath, "then I will try to trust you, Elf." She quickly cleared her throat and said hurriedly, "Besides, Gandalf told me to try and trust you."

Legolas said nothing, stunned. She was attempting to trust him? Just the thought of that seemed like a miracle.

Mornie jumped up on Caled-Veleg's shoulder, giving her a curious look. **_CALED,_** he said with his mind so Legolas could not hear, **_what brought this on?_**

She said nothing.

**_did you hear us last night?_**

She kept her eyes straight ahead and her mouth shut.

Mornie rolled his eyes. **_sometimes I wonder if you ever grew up, CALED  
_**  
That received a slight half-smile.

---

They walked for most of the morning, avoiding any villages. Around noontime, Legolas stopped suddenly. Caled-Veleg noticed this and stopped as well. "What's wrong?"

He held up a hand for her to be quiet. His hearing instantly picked up the sound of footsteps. They were coming from either side of them. "Someone's out there," he said in a hushed tone.

She looked around, her hand going for her whip. "Where?" she said just as quietly.

"Can't tell. They're masking their footsteps."

"I thought Elves could hear an ant's footstep two miles away in the very least?" she sneered.

Legolas decided to let that one pass. Besides, whoever it was gone. Or they had stopped completely. "Let's keep moving," he said.

Caled-Veleg rolled her eyes. "It's foolish to trust an Elf," she muttered to herself.

"This is the same Elf that helped save you from Orcs," Legolas replied as they walked on.

"Is he the one that let a girl stab him?" she retorted, yet her eyes shimmered with mirth.

"What? The girl who is a schizophrenic psychopath?" he said smiling.

"Nice one!" she said, smirking. "But aren't you' talking about yourself?"

"And you talk like an ignorant Dwarf!" he shot back.

"Oh, do I?"

"If it were not for your looks, I would think you were a Dwarf."

"Valor, help me!" Mornie moaned.

Legolas and Caled-Veleg shot insult after insult to each other as they walked on. They stopped when Legolas suddenly sensed something. He motioned for them to stop. Too late.

Something snapped off in the bushes to their right. Legolas' sharp eyes managed to see the rope moving in the grass by Caled-Veleg and he shouted, "Move!"

She jerked to the side just as a huge wooden box fell on the place she had been standing. All three stared at it in surprise. Slowly, Legolas stepped closer and lifted the box. It was hollow inside.

"What is this for?" Caled-Veleg wondered out loud.

"It's a booby trap," Legolas stated as he let go of the box. It landed with a thud.

A loud sound like the fluttering of many wings burst in their ears, a raven's cawing among it. Legolas snapped his eyes around, trying to find the source. Caled-Veleg searched the sky that was peeking through the high branches of the trees around them. Slowly, it faded away.

"This land is not as vacant as we had thought," said Mornie.

"We've stumbled upon someone's territory by the looks of it," said Legolas. "There are several more booby traps up ahead, and a few we managed to pass by behind." He looked at Mornie then Caled-Veleg. "Do we go back and find another route or do we continue?"

"Going back would cost too much time and ground," said Caled-Veleg, already heading onwards. "We go this way."

Legolas was about to say something when her foot tripped over something in the ground and she fell down. Legolas rushed over to her. "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling beside.

She growled, dusting off her dress. "I'm fin--"

"LOOK OUT!" Mornie's voice cut through the last of her sentence.

Legolas looked up to see a large wooden board come swinging down on them from behind and his blood froze. It was not the board that worried him though.

It was the long, sharp spikes that ran all over the board.

Without thinking, Legolas grabbed Caled-Veleg and threw her to the side, out of the way. He jumped to avoid getting hit as best he could. A pain hot through him from his leg, then something connected with his head.

Then he felt nothing.

----------


	5. Chapter V: Chained to Fate

Chapter Five - Chained to Fate

Water dripping into a small pool.

Footsteps.

Something being dropped onto a stone floor.

Cold air.

The smell of wood, brimstone, and steel.

The rustling of cloth.

Footsteps.

As he became more and more awake, Legolas noticed these things. He dared not to open his eyes just yet. His mind began to function properly and he noticed something. His hands were behind him, tied together. His ankles were the same. He was gagged and blindfolded as well so opening his eyes did no good. Legolas was surprised to also discover that there was a sack on his head. He was on the ground, which was cold to the touch and slightly damp. Stone; he must be a cave of some sort.

"They awake yet?"

The voice was spoken from his far right. It was deep; a man's voice.

"Can't tell," answered another voice, this one higher but still a man. "It was supposed to be an hour-long sleep but it's been three hours."

"I told you not to use so much!" a third voice accused, male and slightly aged.

"Hey! Don't blame me! I wanted to leave them alone! You wanted to see if they had anything on them!"

"I did not!" he defended himself. "Why would I do that? We haven't been accepted yet!"

"Don't point fingers at me!"

"Why you--"

"Aw, can it, the both of you!" a new voice broke through. This one was female. "There's one sure way to see if they're awake or not!"

"And what is that, pray tell?" challenged the first voice.

"This!"

Something connected with Legolas' stomach. Hard. He gasped, trying to suck the air back into his lungs. Another gasp came from beside him.

"See! They're awake now!" said the girl.

Several groans of annoyance sounded. "You're gonna kill them if you keep that up!" someone told her.

"Bite me!" she shouted back.

"Pipe down," a calm, yet amused, voice said. All the others instantly became silent. "Let's just get on with it. Denya, remove the sack and gags, leave the blindfolds," he ordered.

"As you wish," said the girl.

Someone came behind Legolas and roughly pulled him up into a sitting position. He then felt her hands undoing the ties that held the sack around his neck from in front of him. She pulled it off then reached behind his head to remove the gag. Her hands were light and sure as her fingers deftly untied the gag. When she took off the gag, he remained silent.

Soon afterwards, he heard Caled-Veleg's voice shouting, "Where the hell am I? What's going on!"

"Hey! We've got a live one here!" laughed Denya. "Settle down. You'll see in a minute."

Caled-Veleg growled in reply.

"On second thought, put the gag back on her. You, the Elf," the calm one said. "What is your name?"

"Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood," Legolas answered. This one seemed to be the leader of these people.

"'Greenleaf'?" he repeated, a hint of recognition in his tone. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"He's the Prince, that's why," Denya snorted. "But who cares? They were in our territory and attacked us! Kill all three of them!"

"Not so fast," the one with the deep voice said. "Let's see what they're doing first, then kill them."

"Right," the leader agreed. "So, what were you doing in our forest?"

"We are traveling and did not know the forest was yours," Legolas replied. "We're sorry."

The leader then whispered something to one of the others. "Where are you traveling?"

Legolas hesitated, not knowing whether he should answer or not.

"Come on, Auron," Denya sighed. "Like he is really going to say it with everyone here. Let me try it!"

Auron chuckled. "If you want to, go ahead. But leave the girl. I'll question her."

"Right!" she said.

Legolas was lifted then thrown. He landed and skidded on his side until he slammed into a wall, wincing when he made contact. He felt something pop and found that his left wrist was now going numb.

"You're lucky," Denya's voice echoed slightly as a door shut, clicking as it locked. "Auron's not that nice to girls." He felt her hand cuff him by the front of his tunic and pulled him up. He could hear the smirk in her voice as she said, "Especially ones that attack us."

Fear for Caled-Veleg flashed through Legolas, chilling him to the bone. "What does he plan to do with her!" he demanded. "If he hurts her in anyway, I swear on my mother's name I will kill all of you!"

"My, you're a feisty one. I wonder what you look like..."

A metal ring ran through Legolas' ears: a blade being pulled out of its sheath. She grabbed him under his chin and lifted his head up. The blade slipped between his face and the blindfold, cutting the cloth. As it slipped away, Legolas blinked, adjusting his eyes to the sudden light.

They were in a small square shaped room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of stone. A small, pulsing, glowing globe that floated near the ceiling produced enough light that Legolas could see his captor.

She was kneeling in front of him, head cocked to the side as she studied him in turn. She was clothed in tight pants, a high-collar tunic with no sleeves, and soft boots all of some dark color. A small dagger was in one hand while the other still held his face. He could see that both of her arms were covered with innumerable bracelets, all were silver yet her right arm held ones that were plain and unmarked while her left one had ones that were etched and had small jewels embedded in them. Her face was unblemished and captivating, her eyes were light green that had flecks of blue in them. Her hair was thick, just to her shoulders and was so black that the light refracted a deep blue on it, two small braids ran from behind her ears and fell all the way down to her slim waist. What shocked Legolas most of all were nearly hidden in her hair.

Her ears were pointed. She was an Elf.

"Wow," she whispered, titling her head to the side, studying him. "You're pretty sexy!"

That shook Legolas out of his stupor. "Excuse me?" he blurted.

"You heard, Princey Boy. You are quite handsome!" Denya said again, shaking her head. She released him and sat back. "I'll make you an offer," she said, grinning. "I'll see if I can let you and your lady friend go if I can sleep with you."

"Excuse me!" he repeated loudly, jerking back away from her.

"Your loss," she said, shrugging. She saw the look in his face and burst out laughing, "I'm joking! They wouldn't allow that anyway! Though I'm not saying I wouldn't mind getting in your pants." She cocked an eyebrow, smiling.

"Well, you're not!" Legolas said, trying to gain control of the situation.

She smirked. "What are you going to do about it? You've no weapons and you are tied up. I don't see what's keeping me from doing just that."

Legolas scoffed, not believing she would or that she could. Before he realized what had happened, she had him pinned to the floor and she was sitting on top of him. "Don't underestimate me, Greenleaf," she said, her eyes glittering. "If I want you, I will have you." She leaned back and fiddled with something in her hands. "What's this?" she asked, seriousness in her voice.

"How did you get that?" Legolas demanded. It was the small package Gandalf had left him. He had kept in a pocket in his cloak only he knew about. How did she find it?

Denya held up her right hand, motioning for him to be silent; there was a thick scar that raced across her palm. Something about the package interested her. She turned it over in her hand. She stopped when her eyes caught sight of a small insignia she had missed before. "Oh hell!" she gasped, snapping her eyes from the package to Legolas. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?" She pulled him up and quickly cut his ties, saying, "If you leave the room, they will kill you regardless of what you are or what you're carrying on you!" That said, she rushed out of the room.

Legolas watched the door slam shut, rubbing his wrists, which were red and bleeding in a few places. He winced when his left one began to swell. He sighed, leaning back against the wall. "What have I gotten myself into?" he said out loud. From the other side of the door, he could hear Denya's frantic words, shouting about something. Several other voice buzzed, then all became still. The door opened and Denya came in, pushing Caled-Veleg in front of her. She shot Legolas a look before leaving Caled-Veleg there and exiting out the door.

"Caled! Are you all right?" he said, rushing to her side. He removed her gag so she could reply.

"Elf! What's going!" she said, trying to rip the cords that held her hands off as she sat up. "And don't call me that!" she snarled.

"I don't know, Caled-Veleg," he said untying her blindfold while rolling his eyes. "Are you all right? Did they hurt you?" he asked, giving her a look over as she backed away from him. She worked one hand out of the cord that bound them. He noticed a strange silver bracelet on her arm that had not been there before. It was glowing slightly. He dismissed that, however, when he saw the blood that was soaking her right sleeve. _Her wound must have reopened,_ he thought.

Caled-Veleg frowned, startled by his questions. "No...not really," she said. "They were asking questions when that girl came in, yelling something about a Pact." She tried to pull the bracelet off her wrist yet it suddenly shrank when she touched it, growing so small she could not move it past her wrist.

"Did they hurt you?" Legolas asked again, his worry evident in his voice. "Did they touch you?"

Caled-Veleg gave him an odd look. "They did nothing more than ask questions," she said again. "That girl was the only one who touched me and that was to get me in here." She stopped and looked around. "Where's Mornie?"

"I haven't seen him since that last booby trap," he answered.

As soon as he spoke the words, Caled-Veleg's face paled. Seeing the look of terror beginning to build, Legolas raised his hands up and slowly stood, backing away. "I won't get any where near you," he said in a soft voice. He came to the far corner of the room and sat down. "I'm going to stay right here. I won't get near you."

"R-Right," Caled-Veleg stuttered, looking the other way. "Right. You do that."

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, no noise coming from the other side of the door, for quite a while. Then the door opened. Denya stepped in and leaned against the door as it shut. She looked at both of them with narrowed eyes, saying, "You two have got some explaining to do."

"I believe that's our line," Legolas said, standing. "What is going on?"

"I'm not the one who's going to answer any questions you have, so settle down. Auron wants to speak with you both." She went over to Caled-Veleg to cut her bonds, frowning when she saw they were gone. She raised her eyes to meet Legolas' as she said, "He also wants to introduce you to the rest of us. Come on." She ushered them out the door before either of them could do anything.

The door lead out into a large room that was quite plain and looked like the inside of a cave. Rock formations were spread out all over the room, some had been reshaped by hand to make a long hallway that led to a dais at the end of it with a large chair. Pools of shining water could be seen here and there. Strangely enough, some pools appeared as if they were glowing green.

There were a total of seven other occupants in the room that they could see as they were led down the hallway, all with black hoods and cloaks on to disguise their features except the one on the chair. A few were standing either by or on the raised dais. The others were seated on the large rocks situated around it. Legolas and Caled-Veleg could feel their eyes on them, watching their every move.

The one in the chair was a man with thin, blonde hair with a few brown strands that fell neatly to his chin line. His eyes were brown and dull, giving no emotion whatsoever except for a small smile on his handsome face. He stood and swept his arms out to the side, bowing at the waist. "Welcome," he said, his voice echoing in the room, "to our humble home."

Legolas nodded in acknowledgement. Caled-Veleg just glared.

As he sat back down, he said, "I apologize for being rude. We took you for being spies the local villages sent to find us. We've been having...problems you could say with them." Several of the cloaked figures chuckled. Denya giggled softly. "Now, you say you're traveling?"

"Yes," said Legolas.

"Where to?"

Legolas hesitated before saying, "To the Grey Mountains."

The occupants of the room started to whisper among themselves, some with question and some with a heated tone. Auron raised a hand to silence them. "Why are you traveling way up there?" he asked next. "You are the Prince of Mirkwood, are you not? The Grey Mountains are not your concern."

"Yes, I am Mirkwood's Prince," Legolas answered, choosing his words carefully. "And yes, the Grey Mountains really are not my concern. We have been charged by the Elf Lord Elrond to journey up there and bring back news of the people that live up there." He knew it was not a good thing to lie, but he did not trust these people. Besides, it was not completely a lie.

Auron raised his eyes from Legolas to Denya, who was standing one step behind the Elf. He titled his head to the side. She shook her head slightly. Auron looked back to Legolas. "What sort of news? And before you answer, let me say this: if you lie or if you try to hide the truth, I will have you killed where you stand."

Legolas glanced at Caled-Veleg who sighed and nodded. "We have information that there are Orcs attacking that land and that they are being sent from someone around Mount Gundabad. We are traveling to find out who it is and stop them."

Again, Auron looked at Denya. This time she nodded. Auron seemed to relax a bit and said, "While I can see you are telling the truth about going to Mount Gundabad, you still have not told us why you entered our territory."

"We did not know it was your territory," Legolas insisted. "Honestly, we did not. We were just following the trail we were sent on--"

"How can we be sure that you weren't sent here to find us out?" Auron interrupted. "To find where in the forest we are? Taken, you may not know of it, but still, someone might be following you just to see if you would run into us. Something in your possession might be leading them to you. There are so many possibilities it boggles the mind."

"Why would anyone even want to find you!" Caled-Veleg suddenly spoke up, having become irritated at being accused of something like that. "You're just a bunch of smelly cave-dwellers that attack people for no reason!"

"At least we don't try to fry people to a crisp when they lay down their own weapons and say they mean no harm, you little witch!" one of the hooded figures responded.

Caled-Veleg growled. "If you hadn't slapped this stupid 'harness' on me, I swear I would incinerate you in a second!" she said motioning to the bracelet on her arm when she said 'harness'.

"If you want another one that will shut that mouth of yours, keep talking!" Denya shouted. "And this time, it won't be easy!"

Caled-Veleg started to reply but Legolas beat her to it. "What do you mean to do with us?" he asked Auron.

Auron was silent for a few moment, thinking. Then, he stood up and said, "We will discuss what to do with you tonight. Tomorrow you will know. Assuming Denya will wake up on time," he said with a smile at Denya.

Denya's face twisted into a grimace. "Bite me!"

"Until then, Clad will keep watch over you two," he said, extending his hand towards a person sitting on the rock nearest them. Clad's hood moved down then up, nodding. "The rest of us will now discuss your sentence."

As soon as he spoke, light flashed form the center of the dais and smoke blew around everyone, shielding them from view. It suddenly dissipated, revealing only Clad was left, still in his place.

The others had vanished.

"Sleep. Talk long," Clad spoke, his voice void of emotion.

Caled-Veleg and Legolas saw nothing else they could do. So they found some rocks that were smooth enough and leaned against them to rest. They were ever under Clad's hidden yet watchful eyes.

---

Deep in the cave, a large fire sparked to life in a great stone fireplace. It flames stretched high and wide, crackling noisily. The light it cast fell on the seven that entered its presence. Cloaks and hoods were removed and laid aside, the business at hand too important for them to worry about spies.

Denya swung herself into a hammock strung between the pillars of an alcove. She dug into a bag that hung on a hook beside it and retrieved a large block of wood. She twirled a dagger into her hand and set to work carving on the block. From within the blankets on the hammock, a small black ferret wiggled loose. It scampered across to Denya, curling in her lap.

The murmurs of the others droned in the cave, passing through her sharp ears. What did she care about the border? What did it matter about the Orc attack Clad encountered on his return trip? Her mind whirled with questions of its own. Questions that were far more important.

However, her attention was drawn away from her carving when Auron said, "And has the debt been fulfilled?"

Denya knocked off a corner of the wood then turned to watch. Her eyes fell on the figure of Auron, seated in one of the many chairs in the room, hand held out to the two standing in front of him. The taller of the two bowed his head and pulled an object out of his pocket. He held it up for Auron to study, saying, "I have fulfilled mine."

Auron picked up the object to study it closer—Denya saw that it was a finely crafted pipe, the rune of 'G' cut into both sides—his face unreadable.

The other also bowed and presented an object, silent. This one was a circlet of shimmering silver, the crossing bands flickering red and gold in the firelight.

Auron picked this one up as well and examined it carefully. Then his brown eyes moved to meet Denya's gaze. "You approve?" he asked, inclining his head to the side.

Denya laid her woodblock and dagger aside and hopped down. Her ferret gave a growl of annoyance before rushing up her leg to rest on her shoulder. She crossed over to where Auron sat. Taking each item in turn, she considered them slowly.

Denya turned to the one who had given the pipe. Handing it back she said, "Darin, your eyes were clouded, now they see clearly. The smoke of doubt has no hold for you." To the other, she gave the circlet back and said, "Tan, though you have no past and have suffered, the pain you've endured shall hold no rule over you.

Quicker than a snap, Denya flipped her hands palm up, facing the two in front of her. Her bracelets clinked as a soft light enveloped them. She uttered the chant, forcing the magic through her body, out her fingertips and into the stolen objects before her. Into the pipe of the Grey Wizard, the light twisted and became silver. Into the circlet of the Half-Elven ruler, it flowed like water and became a dark red. With a short jerk of her head, the light flashed brightly then vanished.

The pipe and circlet were no more. In their stead the two each held a thick silver bracelet, runes running along the insides. The bracelets trembled before stilling as they were placed on their owners' wrists.

"The debt is settled," Denya said. She turned to go back to her hammock but found her eyes draw to the area of Darin's chest just beside his heart. Her eyes followed the path of the scar she knew no mortal eyes could see. Even through his clothes she could see it and it caused her gut to twist with hate.

"Now, what of the Elven Prince and his whore?" one of their number spoke, seated close to the fire. "I say we kill them now and be done with it."

"Are you forgetting the Pact, Darin?" Auron said sharply. "We would then forfeit our lives to atone for theirs."

"How do we know they didn't fake the sign?" Darin asked.

"Impossible," Denya muttered, managing to get her legs to work and walking to her hammock.

"How so?" The calm, deep voice came from the far side of the room.

Denya felt herself relax, as she often did when he spoke. "You can't forge his sign, Anex," she said simply, shrugging. "He's a Wizard, for crying out loud. He of all people and beings in the world would know how to protect this own things."

"Does that change the fact that they might be spies?" the last of their number said, his rough voice breaking the stale air in the room.

"No," Auron said after a moment of thought. "No. it doesn't."

"And that doesn't change the fact that _she_ walked into our territory unharmed," Denya said. All eyes turned to her. Hers were set on Auron. "Humans that enter our land don't walk back out."

This brought a sudden burst of conversation as realization set in. Denya fell back, climbing back to her perch. She worked the point of her dagger into the block, forcing her mind on getting the shape of the face just right.

The decisions could be made without her.

---

The next morning, Legolas and Caled-Veleg were awakened by Denya screaming about something. When they opened their eyes they found Clad--still at his post--as well as the other seven standing in front of them. Denya was glaring at Auron with eyes fit to kill.

Auron ignored her and spoke to Legolas and Caled-Veleg. "We have decided."

Legolas and Caled-Veleg stood, both anxious.

Auron looked over at Denya, who snorted and tossed something at Caled-Veleg, saying, "Here." It was a bag made of a shiny, silvery material. Something was inside it and moving around. "Don't open it until you two are out of our land," Denya ordered, crossing her arms.

"Then, you're letting us go?" Legolas pressed.

Auron's eyes lit up in amusement. "Hardly. You see, we still don't believe that you're not leading anyone to us or that eventually you won't sell the information to the highest bidder."

"But we--" Caled-Veleg started.

/**THUNK****  
**  
A dagger sunk to the hilt in the ground by Caled-Veleg's foot. Denya scowled, pulling back her hand, "I warn you: I'm a good shot. Now shut up."

"As I was saying," Auron continued. "We will only believe you if you do something for us. Around Mountain Gundabad there is said to be a jewel of immense beauty and value. Get that jewel and bring it back, and we will believe your story."

Legolas and Caled-Veleg exchanged a confused glance. Were they serious? If they wanted, Legolas and Caled-Veleg could avoid coming through the forest again on their way back down. Caled-Veleg shrugged, "Why not?"

Auron grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that." He snapped his fingers.

Denya stepped up, crossing her wrists above her head and closing her eyes. She began to utter words in a language neither Legolas or Caled-Veleg had ever heard. The tongue was strange and entranced both of them. They were rooted in their spot, unable to move. Two bracelets on Denya's left arm suddenly moved, lifting off her arm as they expanded. They floated off her hand and traveled over to Legolas and Caled-Veleg. They grew a bit more, then lowered, slipping effortlessly onto their necks, past their hair. The bracelets then shrank until they fit around their neck tight enough to where they could not be pulled off. Denya stopped and lowered her arms, smirking as Legolas and Caled-Veleg snapped out of their trances, hands going for the bracelets.

"You see," said Auron, "I know what you were thinking. You'll just bypass our land on our way back. Well, here's what the bracelets are for: if you don't return with the jewel in six months..." He trailed off.

"Those pretty little blue stones in the middle of them," Denya picked up, "will go into your neck and burn you from the inside out." She winked. "See you in six months!"

---

"Of all the traps we had to set off, we had to set off theirs!" Caled-Veleg raged. They had just gotten outside of the forest and already it was noontime. They were now in a valley of grasslands.

Caled-Veleg then opened the bag she had been given. Out popped Mornie who was shouting, "Come back here you cowards! I'll fight you all!" He stopped, seeing Caled-Veleg giving him a blank look. "We got out?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, pointing to the bracelet around her neck.

"Ah," Mornie said.

Caled-Veleg turned and looked up at Legolas, who had stopped and was leaning against a tree. "What're you doing? Waiting for them to invite us to tea?" she shouted.

"Just...pausing for a bit," Legolas replied, starting down the slope. He winced when he tried to put weight on his leg.

Caled-Veleg saw that and rolled her eyes, going back up the slope. "What'd you do this time?" she said with a sigh.

"Nothing," Legolas said hastily, not wanting her to know. "Nothing at all."

Caled-Veleg made a face. She flicked her hand outwards. The roots of a nearby tree sprang up and caught Legolas' feet, tripping him. She got down beside him and said, "Show me your leg, Elf."

Knowing she would not let up him otherwise, Legolas resigned and lifted the end of his pants up to show her. He had narrowly missed having his leg impaled by the spike, getting away with just having it rip a large quantity of his skin off.

Caled-Veleg made a face and said, "Give me your pack." He handed it to her. She shook her head, muttering something about how stupid and slow Elves were while she looked for the bandages. She stopped, her hand hitting something strange. She reached in and pulled it out, staring at it in disbelief.

It was the egg she had given him.

"But--how--what--why--" she stuttered, trying to form the sentence while Legolas watched her, a smile on his face. Finally she managed to get out, "How did this not break through all that! I mean, you dodged booby traps, get dragged halfway through a forest, and thrown around in a cave! Why didn't it break!"

Legolas, still smiling, said, "Because I made sure it did not. You said whether or not you would ever trust me would be decided on if that egg ever broke. The way I see it is that egg is your trust. It's fragile and can break if one is not careful. I kept that in mind as I carried it. That is why it is not broken."

Caled-Veleg stared at Legolas, her red eyes wide. She could not believe it. This Elf had actually managed to keep the egg safe? And what's more, he meant to? She watched him as he bandaged his leg, her mind dizzy with voices running through her head, each telling her to do something different. Soon, one voice spoke in her mind.

_'Legolas is the only person fit to be your companion. Trust is something that you need to learn. And he is the one that can teach it to you.'_

Legolas stood, testing his leg. He started down, saying over his shoulder, "Come on, Caled-Veleg. We should get moving."

"No."

He stopped and turned back, thinking he had done something wrong. "No?" he repeated.

She slowly stood and faced him. So many emotions ran through her face that it was hard to read them all. _Doubt. Fear. Uncertainty. Regret._

_Hope?_

"No," she said again. She looked at the ground, then met his eyes, surprising him by smiling a bit. "Just...Caled."

----------


	6. Chapter VI: Warnings

Chapter Six - Warnings

"Where were you, Mornie?" Caled asked, giving him a suspicious glare.

Mornie frowned with his cat face. "I'll have you know that I would have helped you if I had been able to. I barely managed to get away after you decided that guy would look better if he was on fire!"

Legolas chuckled, shaking his head. "So how did you end up in that bag, Mornie?" he asked.

Mornie groaned. "I'd rather not say, but since you asked I will. I had tried to reach you two this morning when that strange girl caught me in that bag. And before you ask, I could not break it or even talk to anyone because there's an enchantment on it."

"Enchantment?" Caled repeated, studying the bag in question. She turned it over in her hands, feeling the material. "How could those smelly cave-dwellers get a hold of an enchanted bag?"

"I think there's more to them than we think," said Legolas. He paused, quickly climbing up into the branches of a tree. He looked around before saying, "There are two villages, one straight ahead and another just off to the right."

"We need to resupply," Caled said, looking into her pack. "We need food and more bandages."

Legolas nodded, still not believing his ears. Even though it was all ways with Mornie as well, Caled was actually speaking to him decently. And she had even allowed him to call her 'Caled.' Hope began to stir in his chest. _Maybe…_

The weight of the bracelet around his neck caused their predicament to resurface. Six months to travel to Mount Gundabad, get the jewel, then return to that crazy group of people. Not to mention complete their task for Lord Elrond. Only six months. That would certainly be cutting it close. "Are there any shorter ways of getting to Mount Gundabad?" he asked as he jumped off the boulder.

"If you're suggesting I fly us all over there, you're mad," Mornie replied. "I can only use that dragon form on certain days, and only for a certain amount of time. We were quite fortunate that was a day I was able to or else we would have been in serious trouble. And I have no other useful form either."

"I think we should just stick to the trail Gandalf told us," said Caled. "If we come across another trail that is shorter, then we take it."

"All right," said Legolas as they started on their way. "Let's see if they have a useful map in the village."

---

They had managed to get what they needed in the village without causing any trouble, but they did not find a map they could use. Night fell quickly and they stopped just off the trail in the woods. Caled soon fell asleep while Legolas and Mornie stayed awake.

"How did they get hold of an enchanted bag?" Legolas pondered.

"Who knows?" Mornie said, pacing around their small campsite. "Do you think we will be able to get the jewel back in time?"

Legolas sighed, closing his eyes, "I hope so."

/**BONK****  
**  
"OW!"

Legolas opened his eyes quickly, reaching for his bow. He was surprised to see Mornie by a large tree, rubbing at his head while grimacing in pain. "What happened?" Legolas asked.

Mornie groaned, "You don't want to know. It's dumb."

"What is?" His interest perked, Legolas would not back down.

Mornie sighed. "I ran into the tree."

For a moment, Legolas did nothing, thinking he had misheard. The tree in question was very large; the trunk itself was broader than five grown men standing abreast. "You ran into the tree?" Legolas repeated. "How did you manage that?"

"I'm blind," Mornie said sharply.

Legolas blinked. "What?"

"I. Am. Blind," Mornie repeated. "I'm not able to see as everyone else," he explained. "I can only see through other people's eyes. As long as I'm around others who can, what they see, I see. In my human form, I have sight though. It's very confusing, but that's the way I am."

Silence once again overcame Legolas. What could he say?

"Ask," Mornie said, a defeated note in his tone.

"Pardon?"

"You have questions that will drive you and me both insane if you do not ask. So, ask them," Mornie said, giving his head another shake before sitting down by Caled.

"You can read minds?" was the first out of Legolas' mouth.

"Again, a confusing answer," Mornie started. "I cannot actually read minds, per say. It is more like I can sense what someone is feeling; their emotions. I can tell you have confusion and question in your mind right now." He paused, lowering his gaze briefly. "And also in your heart."

"So, you can sense what I feel," Legolas said, ignoring the last part, "and you can only see through my eyes as long as we're close?"

"Correct." Mornie yawned, stretching. "It's past time that I retire."

Legolas smiled a bit. "Sleep well, Mornie."

Mornie was already asleep.

Legolas leaned back, his head resting against the tree behind him, and his thoughts wandered. So many things had happened to him in such a short time. How many more things would transpire when this journey was over? When would this journey be over? In a small corner of his mind, Legolas wished it never would. It certainly was not boring traveling with Caled. It was something he was beginning to enjoy. And now that she was talking to him, it was becoming even more of a joy. Even though his heart was still confused at why he was drawn to her, it was somewhat content whenever she was around.

His pale blue eyes gazed at her face, relaxed in her slumber, a slight smile present on her lips. In the short time he had known her, Legolas knew he was nowhere near getting to know the real her; the real Caled-Veleg. What he did know of her was vague. She had the determination and strong will rooted deep in her to complete this journey for some unknown reason. She put up a front of being tough and fearless to deceive people. She was easily scared. She had mood swings like no one he had ever seen before. Only one thing about Caled was certain.

She was terrified of males and Elves.

Legolas knew the only reason she was traveling with him was because of Gandalf. The White Wizard must have said something to her that convinced her to go such a long way with him. Him, who was both of the things that seemed to be the bane of her existence.

Yet she was still with him. She was still sane, more or less.

_She's stronger than she knows,_ he thought. _Though I am both a male and an Elf, she has still managed to keep from "snapping" when I'm around her like she did before. She's like no one I've ever met before._ A half-smile formed on his fair face. _Perhaps that is why I find her so interesting..._

/**CRUNCH****  
**  
Legolas jerked into a standing position, his bow in hand and arrow pointed in the direction of the footstep. Behind him, Mornie shot up, wisps of mist started to form around him.

**_what is it?_** Mornie asked.

"Don't know," Legolas said in a hushed tone. Another footstep reached his ears. He calculated it to be about a hundred yards in front of them, coming to their campsite. "Protect Caled," he told Mornie, then moved into the darkness of the woods around them.

He ran swiftly, not making a sound. He stopped just ahead of where the approaching being was. He had his bow raised, ready to shoot at a second's notice. His farseeing eyes saw a shape moving through the trees, blocked by the shadows. Then a shaft of moonlight fell on it for a moment.

A moment was all Legolas needed to get a good look at it. It was a large, bulky creature with deep, deep violet skin. Its head was a bit large in relation to its body, sharp teeth protruded from its large mouth. Huge, bulbous eyes glowed green from behind a shock of spiky, black hair that held a strip of green in the front. Its arms were long and stretched from its broad shoulders to the ground. Its legs were long as well, and surprisingly thin. Its presence could not be mistaken for anything else but evil.

Legolas let loose his arrow. It flew sure and struck the creature in its forehead. It stumbled, then righted, eyes aimed straight at Legolas. It grinned.

**_LEGOLAS!_** Mornie's voice rang in his mind. **_hit the eyes! the eyes!  
_**  
Legolas loaded two arrows at once and shot them without thinking. Each ran through one eye. The creature howled in pain, then fell back; dead. The Elf let out a breath, relaxing after he found nothing else around. "What was that?" he said aloud.

**_hope you never find out, LEGOLAS,_** Mornie replied, a chill in his 'voice'. **_you would never forget it, and it would haunt you for the rest of your eternal life._**

---

Legolas and Mornie did not speak of the creature when Caled awoke the next day. Even though they both acted as if nothing had happened, Caled was acting strange. Her eyes were all ways wandering around to their surroundings as they walked on, expecting something to jump out of the shadows. After she did this numerous times, Legolas, his concern getting the better of him, asked, "Is everything all right, Caled?"

She was quiet for a moment or two, contemplating something. When she spoke it was in a slow, thoughtful voice. "Something happened last night, didn't it, Elf?" she said, looking Legolas straight in the eyes. "Something was near the campsite, and you went after it. Didn't you?"

Astonished by her knowledge of the incident, Legolas fumbled with his words. "Uh--yes. A strange creature was approaching the campsite and I tracked it as you said."

"What happened?" she asked, stopping in mid-step, something strange flashing in her red eyes.

Legolas stopped about a step in front of her. "It's intent was evil, whatever it was, so I killed it before it could do harm."

"What did it look like?" came her next question.

Briefly, he described the creature, watching her face as he did so. It was passive until he said the style of its hair and eyes. A shocked, slightly scared expression barely readable shone in her eyes, but it was enough to let Legolas know she knew about the creature. When he was through, she said in a low voice, "The next time a creature like that appears, alert me. I do not care what the situation is, but make sure I see it before anything happens to it or to us. Understand, Elf?" He nodded and they continued.

As the day went on, Caled seemed to relax. She even managed to make decent conversation with Legolas, but he noticed she was still holding back, keeping the distance as it was. It was like she was afraid to get any closer. When they walked he saw she kept herself either ten paces from him to the front or back. He chose to ignore it, thankful that they had made a little progress as compared to her just giving him death glares.

No matter what subject they were on, it somehow turned back to their problem and the strange group they had encountered the day before. Something about them keep coming back, making Legolas and Caled both wonder if they had really seen the last of them.

"That bag is really getting on my nerves," Caled stated when they had stopped for the noon meal, eyeing the bag which Mornie was using as a cushion while he napped.

Legolas resisted the urge to chuckle at her. "Why are you letting a bag get the better of you?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice.

Caled shrugged, poking the campfire with a stick to keep it going before going back to her food. "It's not really the bag, it's how they got it. I just can't place it, but I don't think they just had a bag like that laying around that cave of theirs." She paused, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of meat. She swallowed and went on. "It would take a tough enchantment to bind Mornie's powers. In addition to that, I'm curious to what the material is. It is light, but stronger than any cloth I have ever seen."

Legolas glanced at the bag then returned his gaze to Caled. "I could be mistaken but I believe it is mithril."

Caled frowned. "Mi-mithril," she repeated, stumbling over the word. "What is that?"

Taken aback by the question, Legolas stared at her briefly before saying, "It's a Dwarf craft that is stronger than any other armor in this land."

"I doubt that," she said under her breath, taking a drink from her water pouch.

"I have seen it first hand," Legolas said with a defensive tone. "Years ago when I was on a journey such as this one, a member of our company was nearly impaled with a skewer thrown by a Cave-Troll. Had he not been wearing a mithril shirt, he would be dead now."

Caled was surprised at that statement. She shook her head and said with a smile, "Do you all ways have such interesting acquaintances?"

"What makes you say that?" he said, grinning.

"I've never heard of an Elf defending anything relating to the Dwarf race before," she said, a sneer in her tone when she said 'Elf'. She stopped, looking at Legolas in an odd way, as if something odd had entered her mind. "You're not like the other Elves...are you?" she asked, her voice small, scared of his answer.

Legolas searched her eyes, saying in a gentle voice, "It would depend on what Elves you speak of, m'lady. I have never seen one react so violently towards an Elf in the way you do. It makes me wonder what has caused you to act so."

Caled broke her gaze away, saying hurriedly, "You think too much, Elf. Besides it does not matter what is in the past. Leave it." Though her voice was strong, Legolas could see her hands trembling.

The Wood-Elf sighed, mentally kicking himself. Just when he thought he had penetrated her defenses, she threw the walls back up, shutting him out. Next time he would be more careful.

If there was a next time.

---

Closely after they set out again, Mornie spoke. "I don't think we should spend tonight out here."

"Why not?" Caled demanded, glaring at Mornie.

"There might be more of those creatures out," he said, stressing the word 'creature' as he gave Caled a hard look. "Spending a few nights in a village might erase our trail so they cannot follow us."

"Trail?" Legolas said, curious.

Caled cast him a side-glance before saying, "If the one you slew last night was as you said it was, there will be others following us for awhile. They travel in packs. They can track things by the heat their prey gives off. If we linger in a village--especially a crowded one--then we could lose them."

Legolas bit his tongue before he asked how she knew of this. It was better if he did not know, he reasoned. From the look in her eyes he knew he would not like the answer. "There should be another one close by," he said instead. "If we hurry we might be able to make it before sunset."

"Even when we do," Mornie interjected, "there is still matter of where we will be staying."

"An inn, of course," Caled snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, of course," said Mornie, his voice a little tense. "But what would the inn keeper say when we appear at their inn asking for a room for a few nights? We're not exactly their everyday traveling group."

"Ah," Caled said, her face flushing with embarrassment.

Before Legolas could reply, Caled suddenly gasped. She stumbled and fell to her knees, one hand clutching her injured side while the other press against her temple. "What's wrong? What happened?" he said, kneeling beside her. He was about to lay a hand on her shoulder, but stopped, remembering what had happened the last time a man had touched her.

"P-pain!" she ground out, her teeth clenched together. Her eyes were shut tightly as she tried to speak through it. "It--It hurts!

"Where?" Legolas asked, wanting to do something other the watch her like this.

She shook her head roughly. "Nothing...you...can do!" she said slowly, her face beginning to pale. "Just...wait!"

"There must be something I can do!" Legolas protested, worry for her health making him anxious.

"There is," Mornie said. He was standing on the other side of Caled, looking into the woods. "You can make good on your promise to protect her."

"What?" said Legolas, confused.

"Damn it!" Caled swore, pounding her a fist on the ground.

"Pick up your weapons, Legolas," Mornie whispered under his breath, sparing Caled a worried glance. "We're surrounded."

All at once, Legolas saw and heard that they were. Four beings were coming from their sides, closing in on them. They were the same kind as the one last night. These were different in some ways. Instead of being short and bulky, these were tall and thin like they had been stretched on a rack. They all had short grungy hair that was tangled, the color was black and striped in the front as well with a certain color for each one. There were two with different shades of blue--one dark navy and the other a sky blue--one was red and the last was dark orange. Their eyes were large and glowing the same color as their respective stripe.

**_stay by CALED,_** Mornie's mental voice ordered. **_if at all possible, we should get rid of them quickly. Don't let them get near her. don't let them get any closer than they all ready are._** Legolas nodded slightly, slowly reached to his bow, grasping it in a tight grip.

The one with the navy stripe stepped forward, its eyes focused on Caled. It bent down in a bowing motion.

"What do you want?" said Mornie to the creature.

A low gurgle muttered from the creature. It raised a hand out to Caled then pulled it back, making a fist and clapping it against its chest.

Mornie growled, "You will never have her! Be gone!"

Another gurgle, this one more threatening than before and it repeated the motion. The other three did so as well.

"Never!" Mornie hissed. His form was covered in mist before he leapt out of it, now in the form of a large wolf like animal. He attacked the one in front, clasping onto its long neck with his powerful jaws. Thick, black blood gushed from around Mornie's sharp teeth. With a powerful shake, the neck snapped. He turned to one that was rushing to him.

Legolas loosed his arrow on one that had tried to get closer, striking the shoulder. It reeled, then kept coming. Remembering Mornie's words from the night before, he shot his arrow in its eye. It let out a shriek that made the Elf wince. He ignored it as best he could and shot another arrow. As it struck its mark, another scream escaped the creature before it fell.

Caled's startled cry broke through and Legolas spun, whipping out his knife. The one with the red stripe had grabbed her by the arm and lifted her up, exposing her side. It pulled its other hand back and threw it forward. Legolas managed to catch its arm with his knife, stopping it. It locked eyes with him and hissed like a snake, then shrieked as well. The sound was making Legolas' head ache. It was too high for his sensitive hearing to take. He almost lost his footing but forced himself to stay straight. He roughly shook his head, then kicked the creature in the side, forcing it to let go of Caled and fall.

Seeing it was not about to get up, he turned to Caled, saying hurriedly, "Did it hurt you!"

Caled's eyes were wide, staring past him. His sharp eyes caught the reflection in hers; the creature was standing, about to attack again.

"MOVE!" Mornie shouted, dropping the remaining creature's dead body from his jaws.

Legolas' hand flew to his bow, but he knew he was too late.

There was a muffled 'THUD' and the creature jerked, swaying on its feet. It jerked again and collapsed onto the ground.

They stared, waiting for it to get back up. It never did. Cautiously, Mornie stepped up to it. Sniffing it, he said, "It's dead."

Legolas let out a relieved breath. Having that problem finished, he moved back to Caled, who was lying on her side on the ground, trying to catch her breath while still holding her other side tightly.

She raised a hand to stop him from speaking. "Don't...even ask," she said between breaths, glaring at the dead body in front of her. She started to carefully sit up, muttering dark words under her breath at the corpses around them. "Let's get...to the village," she said, grabbing onto a nearby tree for balance as she stood.

"We should wait until you're rested," Legolas said firmly.

"That would take too long," Caled said, shaking her head. "The rest of the pack will be here in ten minutes once they smell the blood. We have to leave now." She turned to Mornie and said, "How do we get in without any trouble?"

---

"I'm going to kill you for this, Mornie," Caled swore under breath.

**if you have to, do it after we get in**, Mornie replied, unable to hide a little laugh.

The three were walking through the village trying to find an inn that was in the center of it. Mornie had come up with the idea that they should pose as a married couple, much to Caled's distress. Legolas opposed the plan mainly because he knew it would make her uneasy and he did not wish to. Mornie argued that it was either that or they could go in separately and get rooms scattered all over the village. Knowing Gandalf would have his head if he left her, Legolas reluctantly agreed and Caled had no choice but to as well, making Legolas swear he would not touch her. Mornie morphed into a small baby—for added realism, he told them—and Caled wrapped a spare blanket around him. Legolas hid his ears with his hood like they had done before and they went into the village.

"Why do we need an inn near the center?" Legolas asked, interrupting what could have turned out to be a verbal battle between the other two.

"It will help cover our trail," said Caled. "The more people that cross it, the better. Also, if they attack, it will give us enough warning time to prepare for them."

Legolas nodded, surprised at the lack of emotion in her voice. Though she appeared fine, he could tell she was still in pain from her wound.

**turn left, then straight ahead**, said Mornie. They did so and found a large inn in the middle of a busy market place.

"Good location, plenty of people," Caled said, mostly to herself. "Just right." She sighed, muttering, "Let's get this over with."

They entered the inn, acting out their parts as best they could considering Caled had threatened Legolas' life if he touched her and he had no desire to be killed. The innkeeper was a large middle aged man. He saw them coming in and greeted them with a smile, saying, "Welcome! What can I do you for?"

"Good day," Legolas replied, nodding his head. "My wife and I wish to rent a room for a few days while we're in town."

"You've come to the right place then!" the innkeeper said. "This is the best inn in the village. Right in the market, so you don't have to go far! What kind of room would you like?"

Taking his cue, Mornie started making a fuss, crying loudly as Caled tried to calm him down.

"Preferably one away from others," Legolas said. "As you can see, our son has a healthy set of lungs and we don't wish to upset the other tenants."

The innkeeper nodded. "Right, right. Well, I've got the room for you and your miss that will suit you." He turned to retrieve something under the counter he was behind, missing Caled give him a glare at the words 'your miss'. Legolas quickly shot her a look that said 'calm down'. The inn keeper came back up and handed Legolas a key, saying, "Follow me and I'll show you where it is."

---

"Gah!" Caled exclaimed, flopping onto one of the two beds in the room. "That woman would not stop talking!"

"I've never known a woman of her stature that could speak so many sentences with one breath," Mornie said, shaking his head in disbelief, in his cat form at the head of Caled's bed.

The inn keeper--who's name was Thomas--had showed them their room and almost immediately after he left, his wife, Elena, showed up to give them a basic tour of the inn. Elena was a bubbly, cheerful woman a few years younger than her husband yet had a few pounds more. She had showed them around, pointing out places like the kitchen, dining hall and the bar that was underneath the inn, as well as say that they had a private bathing area of natural hot springs in the back. She assured them that no one went at night, so they could use it in private if they wanted. Legolas almost had to physically restrain Caled from attacking Elena behind her back.

Caled eyed Mornie. "You say it as if it was a compliment, Mornie. Why is it humans are so vulgar?" She began to sit up, wincing in pain.

Legolas saw this. "Are you sure you're all right, Caled?" he asked.

"I'll be fine by morning, so stop asking," she said, grabbing her pack and rummaging through it. "I'm going to those hot springs she was talking about. That might help." She stood, giving Legolas a dark look. "You had better not follow me, Elf." She turned and went out the door.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "As if I would try," he said to himself, sitting down in a chair by the window.

Mornie studied the Elf, noticing the drop in his shoulders and the faraway looking his eyes. "Legolas, why don't you go out?" he said.

"What?" Legolas said, turning back to him.

"Go outside," Mornie said. "Walk around the market, get your mind at ease. It might do you some good."

Legolas was silent as he considered Mornie's words. With a light sigh, he stood and said, "All right. I'll be back before too long."

As he walked around the market, Legolas began to lose himself in the controlled chaos it held. Vendors trying to shout over each other to buyers that trotted back and forth, mothers trying to keep track of their children while haggling over a product's price, the children laughing, running around and playing with each other, men talking loudly. He had been in a many villages such as this one, yet he was still amazed by it for some reason.

Not ten minutes after he left the inn, a small boy ran into him, falling down in the dirt. Legolas helped him up, asking, "Are you all right?"

The boy looked up at him, a strange light appearing in his eyes. "They have you, Prince Legolas," he said in a soft voice. Before Legolas could stop him, the boy darted off to a nearby building, stopping in the doorway and saying over his shoulder, "The Lady wants to see you, Prince." Intrigued by the boy's words, Legolas followed, noticing the sign that hung outside the door.

_FORTUNES TELLER: Lady Meryl_

Inside, it was dark, shadows covering every corner. His hearing picked up the sounds of several people breathing but all he could see were vague shapes in the darkness. A candle was lit, held by the same boy. "This way," he said, turning and walking down a long hallway. The little light that the candle produced allowed Legolas to see a better.

The hallway was filled with children of all shapes and sizes sitting on the floor. They lined the hallway, all watching Legolas with their large eyes, following his every move. As he continued down, fewer and fewer children were present until they disappeared all together. His guide stopped when they reached a large door. He turned back to the Elf and said, "Through here, Prince."

For a moment Legolas hesitated, unsure as to if he should really go in. "She is waiting," the boy said, pulling open the door and gesturing inside. Finally, he went in.

No sooner than his foot stepped inside the room, the door slammed shut, a latch locking it. He was trapped inside the pitch-black room. Immediately, the instinctive terror of the darkness took a hold of his mind, making him turn around and pound on the doors. He was about to start shouting to be let loose when something odd happened.

A dull blue light started glowing from behind him. He slowly turned and saw a glowing orb floating in the middle of the room. The glow continued to glow brighter and brighter until it was near blinding. Then all at once, it lowered to a tolerable level.

"Don't stand in the door way," an old yet gentle voice spoke. "Come in."

On the other side of the glowing orb, Legolas could make out the form of an old woman. Her face was wrinkled and framed by thin, white hair that fell to her shoulders. She was smiling, her dark eyes shining in the light. She motioned to a chair that materialized across from her as well as a small round table. Cautiously, Legolas walked over to the chair and sat down, not letting his eyes off the woman less she turn on him.

Her smile deepened. "I mean you no harm," she said, her eyes twinkling with laughter, "Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood."

"How do you know who I am?" he said in a guarded tone. Though she appeared harmless, a strange power generated from her frail form. There was more to her than met the eye.

"Though you travel in secret," she answered, "your presence cannot be mistaken for anything but royalty. I am Meryl, a fortuneteller as you probably saw. I did not mean to startle you in any way," she said, shaking her head. "When I sent the boy I forgot to tell him not to be so secretive. I apologize."

"Why do you wish to see me?" Legolas asked, wanting to get back to the inn before Mornie and Caled went out looking for him.

A mask of grave seriousness slipped onto her face. "To warn you, Legolas."

"Warn me?" he repeated. "Of what?"

"Lately, I've been having visions pertaining to you and your journey to the Grey Mountains. When I saw you were in this village, I knew I must speak with you." Her eyes met his, mirth gone. "Great danger is close at hand for you."

For a second, Legolas was too stunned to do anything. Then he said, "What do you mean?"

She sighed, "I cannot reveal everything to you--though I wish I could with all my being. It would complicate matters. But I can show you a bit of it. Perhaps it will be enough to help you." Meryl raised a withered hand and laid it on the orb. "Touch the globe," she instructed. "It will not hurt. Trust me." The assurance in her voice aided in easing Legolas' doubts. He raised a hand and touched the other side, closing his eyes when Meryl did the same.

In a rush, the real world faded. Images and voices flooded into his mind's eye at an alarming rate then vanished to be replaced by more. They were confusing at first, but soon they were sharpened with understanding he guessed was from Meryl.

:_a campsite in the woods, blurred faces around the fire, many voices speaking, laughing_:

_"...we formed? Such a thing…"_

:_the smoking remains of a village, charred bodies all around, several people were standing with him staring in shock, Caled could be heard, crying and screaming in anger_:

_"...fools! Why did they not..."_

:_an army of Orcs trudging through the fields of Rohan, many turning to attack him, Caled was beside him, she was saying something to him_:

_"...fighting! I won't let him take you as he..."_

:_group of figures walking out of the shadows, weapons stained with blood_:

_"...break our promises. That is our law..."  
_  
:_a semi-dark room lit with torches, Orcs and Uruk-Hai everywhere, a shadowy figure standing over the crumpled body of Caled, blood covered her clothes and he could not hear her breathe_:

_"...did not see her last moments. She called your name..."_

:_the same shadowy figure, facing him, a gloved hand outstretched towards him, behind him one of the creatures that was tracking them could be seen_:

_"...of your pain. Take my hand and it will go..."_

The images ceased and the voice of a child whispered in his mind.

_"Friends of New, once Enemies of Old. _

Servant of Mirkwood,

Beware the wielder of the Ancient Tongue,

Killed more for less has this one.

Stray from the Land of the Never Seeing Sun

For her time will surely come.

Such is the life for those,

Consumed by Fire and Blood."

Then it all vanished. Legolas and Meryl both recoiled from the globe, breathing heavy. "What was that!" he gasped, trying to comprehend what he had seen. That last image of Caled caused fear to grow inside him. He was sure that she had been dead, but he refused to believe that.

"Those were just a few of what I have seen," Meryl replied, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "And the most tame." She met his eyes and said in a strong voice, "When you depart from this village, be absolutely careful of who and what you encounter. Suspect everything to be a foe, accept nothing without a second thought. Heed my warning as well as the voice's own warnings. If you do not," she closed her eyes, sadness overcoming her features, "the poor girl will suffer through the very hell she has been running from."

----------


	7. Chapter VII: Dealings

Chapter Seven - Dealings

Legolas returned shortly after his meeting with Lady Meryl the fortuneteller. He did not speak of it with either Caled or Mornie, thinking it best not to. What he had seen haunted his mind throughout the night, the image of Caled's body lying lifeless on the ground sending shivers down his spine. Meryl's words all ways followed.

_'The poor girl will suffer through the very hell she has been running from.'_

Though he could only make guesses at what she had meant, Legolas swore he would do everything possible to prevent that from happening. Even if it meant his life.

---

In the darkness of the Conference Room hours after the Elven Prince left, Meryl stared at her globe, floating above the table in front of her. Her hands were clasped under her chin and she let out a tired sigh. She had given as much information to him as she could, more than she should have in reality. She prayed he would be wise enough in his choices along the road.

"He left?" a voice said from the doorway, the light casting shadows on the tall, masculine figure.

Meryl nodded. "Yes, he's gone," she said, sitting back in her chair.

"Did you..." he trailed off, as if unsure of how to word the question.

"I made sure the images were blurred," she said, a smile on her face at his worrisome behavior, "and only pieces of the conversations. You have nothing to worry about, Darin."

"How much did you show him?" he asked next, still unable to shake off his worry.

"I showed him all he could handle right now," she said, her face softening. "But I placed more in his mind for when he is ready for them."

"What!" Darin snapped, angered by this. "What for!"

"It was necessary!" Meryl responded, with an equally heated tone. "And stop fretting like a baby! He will do you no harm!" Her words echoed in the room, silencing Darin. Calming herself, Meryl continued, "He will not see them right away. He can only view them after they are triggered, so go back to sleep. You need a good night's rest anyway, don't you?" she added with a smile.

Darin did not reply. He just shut the door and stormed back to the bedroom he had been lent for the night.

---

Two days, then three, then four passed without any incident. Legolas and Caled were able to pull off their roles in front of Thomas and Elena enough to were there were no suspicions. Caled's wound was not acting up, or so she told him. Yet as he stayed up during the night, often just to watch her sleep, Legolas began to see that she was telling another lie. Her sleep was fitful and would she groaned in pain sometimes, rolling off her bad side as her hand unconsciously touched it. A few times she would cry, whether from pain or the nightmares that plagued her he could not tell. In the morning, she acted as if nothing had happened. He hated to see her like that, but if he questioned her, she would either shut him out completely or demand to know how he knew of her sleep. That or incinerate him.

Caled had a very short temper, as Legolas already knew. But she was more reckless than he first thought her to be. Her strange powers almost got them in trouble several times. Every time someone infuriated her they were in danger of having one of her green fireballs shoved down their throats—or any other available body cavity for that matter. Upon one occasion, a drunkard had tried to make a move on her in the market and he was immediately strangled by long tendrils of the hanging plant that had been behind him. It seemed to Legolas that life with Caled would not be dull.

The fifth night they were there, Legolas ventured back down to the bar after he and Caled had started another insult contest. Not wanting to blow their cover, he left to cool down as well as give her some space. The bartender was a young man that was a good conversationalist and always lent a listening ear to the patrons' troubles. An hour passed without Legolas noticing it while he and another man were engaged in a debate over the mixture of a new drink the bartender was inventing.

"Still missing something!" the man exclaimed, a frown on his face as he wiped his mouth after taking a sip of the latest try at the drink. He was a young man with blonde-white hair that strayed close to his head and dark blue eyes, a jovial gaze in them. "I can't place my finger on it quite yet!"

"You and every other drunk!" the bartender exclaimed shaking his head. "I've gone to every bar and tavern between here and the next five leagues. One or two more ingredients are all I think it needs to be perfect. The Perfect Drink, I'd call it. Sell millions of it and I'd be set for the rest of my life."

"Have you tried adding more of that ale?" Legolas tried, motioning to the bottle beside the bartender.

"Add any more and it'll kill the flavor!" the other man said, downing a pint of said ale before reaching for the shot glass the bartender sat down.

A slim hand shot between the two and grabbed the shot glass, a gulping sound coming from behind them then a released breath. "Not half bad!" a voice said.

Turning his head enough to see whom it was, Legolas came face to face with a young girl. She was leaning on the shoulder of the man beside him--who had a peculiar expression on his face at seeing her there--and studying the shot glass. She had brown hair, which hung thickly to her shoulders, and green eyes that were duller than they should have been. Her attractive face was flushed and she was grinning. It was obvious that she was drunk.

Her face twisted in a frown. She smacked her lips then said to the bartender, "Not bad at all. The ale weakens it just right, yet the strong kick I'm guessing is from the menthol stuff," she paused, sniffing the glass, "though that seemed half-aged so it's not too overpowering in large quantities. The herbs were a good thought, helping counter-act any hangover one might get from drinking too much and making it have a unique taste as well as a tempting aroma. The red berry wine was a nice touch, leaving a divine aftertaste in one's mouth." She grinned again, "Nearly right on the money!" She hiccupped.

Legolas and the bartender stared at her in disbelief as she rattled off the ingredients to his drink. "Uh--yes, thank you," the bartender stuttered.

She licked the remaining droplets out of the glass, then her face lit up. "I know!" Before they could do anything, she dove over the counter, flipping and landing flat on her back. She quickly got back on her feet, unashamed. "Fill it up again!" she ordered, looking through the various labels on the beer and wine bottles. At a loss for anything else to do, the bartender shrugged, pouring the drink in a larger glass so she could mix it. She grabbed it when it was the right amount and dumped three different liquids into it, covering it with another glass and shaking it furiously. When it was done, she took three shot glasses and filled them up, grinning proudly. "Try it!" she ordered.

Reluctantly, the three took a glass each and downed the concoction with nervous faces. Each stared wide-eyed at the girl as the drinks slid down their throats. It was perfect! The right taste, feel, smell--everything!

"What did you put in?" the bartender exclaimed, still shocked.

"These," she said, motioning to the bottles. "A bit of this, a little more of that, and double of this! If you do that for every shot glass in a bottle, it'll be just right every time! Speaking of which," she said, grabbing the bottle of the incomplete drink from the bartender and beginning to mix the ingredients in as well.

"Hey! That's my last bottle!" the bartender exclaimed, moving to take it from her. "You might ruin it!"

"Never fear!" she shouted dramatically, swiftly raising a hand to stop him. "The bottle contains enough room for thirty shot glasses!" She stopped, weighting the bottle in hand. "Scratch that. Thirty two!" As soon as she had correctly mixed and blended the drink, she gave it back to him saying, "Here ya go! As payment, I'll take this little beauty!" She took one of the wine bottles from the shelf and read the label, "Pretty good year." She shrugged. "Bottoms up!" she cheered. She opened the bottle and took a long swig from it. She sighed loudly, her grin expanding. "Hits the spot!" she said, her words slurring together, as she jumped back over the bar. She wandered off, laughing to herself while drinking the wine between each giggle.

The man beside Legolas grumbled something under his breath, taking another shot before getting up and following her. As he passed, the Elf saw a strange glint in his blue eyes. It was not a threatening expression, if it had been Legolas would have stopped him. Rather, it was the same look an older sibling would have when his younger sibling was making trouble. Just as the man reached her, the girl tripped and toppled back into him. To Legolas' surprise, she did not push him away. Instead, she swung an arm around his shoulder and allowed him to help her walk out. His sharp ears caught their conversation as they left the bar.

"I thought you were staying!" the man hissed quietly.

"Hehehe! Why? This place's got good stuff!" she said, drinking more of the wine.

"Because she'll have your head! Mainly because you didn't save her any!" When he spoke this, they were heading out the entrance, out of sight. His voice changed dramatically halfway through his sentence, becoming less rough and deeper. A rich tenor instead of a scratchy alto. It caused Legolas to nearly drop the glass he was holding because he was so startled.

The girl's voice changed as well. "Aww, she'll understand! Besides, I swiped a pint of that new drink back there. She'll forgive me when I give her that!" Her words were not spoken with the silly, high-pitched voice of a young girl that Legolas had heard before. It was the sultry, mature voice of a woman that spoke them.

The next words between the two knocked the wind out of him.

"What would we have done if he had seen through the disguise? Tell me that!" the man demanded.

"Calm down! The Elf didn't notice."

Standing up, Legolas ran to the entrance, not caring if anyone saw him use his Elven speed. When he got there, the two were already gone. "What is going on?" he whispered out loud, wishing he knew the answer.

---

After the sixth day, Caled announced that enough time had passed and the creatures probably retreated back to their nest. Legolas did not question her though he wanted to. As they made their way out of the village, Meryl's warnings came back to him. Suspect everything, trust nothing without a second thought--if he did not, Caled would suffer for it. He would allow the horror that tainted her trust towards him and his Race be inflicted upon her again. As both her companion and one who had grown to care for her, he would sooner have it inflicted on himself a thousand times over than her.

"Gandalf."

Caled's voice brought him out of his thoughts as she glanced at him. "What?" he said, quickly adverting his gaze before she noticed he had been staring at her.

"Do you think Gandalf could get these bracelets off?" she said, pointing to hers.

"More than likely he will not be able to," he replied, unconsciously raising a hand to touch the one around his neck.

She frowned, "Why not?"

Thinking his response over, he was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, "From what I can remember of when Denya placed them on us, I believe she is the only one who can."

"Why is that?"

"She appeared to have power over them. I've heard of certain wizards that can create enchanted objects that do whatever they want it to. Only the ones who made them can activate or deactivate them. If she did indeed make these, then she is the only one who can release us from them."

Caled uttered a few choice words under her breath.

"They become stranger and stranger with each day," Mornie commented from his place a few feet ahead of them. "How strange do you think they will be once we meet them again?"

"Beyond strange," Caled said with a chuckle, shaking her head.

As he was about to say something, Legolas suddenly heard the sounds of what seemed like twenty or so beings coming from behind. He stopped immediately and turned around, raising a hand to stop Caled. What he saw did more than confirm it.

A large group of Orcs were racing ahead towards them. In their lead was one of the creatures they thought they had lost, its distinctive mark a shock of purple hair. Its eyes were narrowed on him, their color darkening to a deep violet. It grinned with anticipation before motioning to the Orcs to attack.

"Prepare for battle!" Legolas ordered, loading his bow. He fired at the leader's eye. It ducked down swiftly to avoid it, then lowered itself to the ground, running on all fours.

It was upon Legolas before he knew what had happened. His sharp reflexes saved him from being impaled by the creature's long and deathly sharp fingers. He flipped, recoiling off a tree trunk and slashing out his long knife. The blade passed easily through the creature's midsection. He landed and spun around in case it would attack till its last breath. To his shock, the wound he inflicted healed shut. The creature patted its restored torso, grinning. It charged, snapping its arms out towards the Elf. Legolas drew his other blade and crossed them in front of his chest, holding the creature at bay mere inches from his body.

A cry from Caled broke Legolas' concentration. He glanced over to see Caled fighting off the Orcs, Mornie in his wolf form beside her. Already, sweat covered her brow and she was panting for breath. "Caled!" he shouted, worried for her safety.

"Worry about yourself!" she shouted back, her whip lashing out on an unsuspecting Orc and taking its eyes. "You deal with the Reaper! I'll take care of the riffraff!"

The creature--now identified as a Reaper--hissed, eyes glaring at Caled briefly before going back to Legolas. It took advantage of his concern and pushed harder against him, causing him to lose his balance momentarily. Legolas saw the Reaper pull back so it could get enough power behind its hand. He dropped to dodge it, throwing out his leg and catching it behind the knees. The Reaper moved with it and rolled, growling at Legolas. It stayed on all fours, slowing moving in a circle around the Elf. Legolas rose steadily to his feet, crouched so he could easily move to avoid the Reaper's fingers, and kept his eyes locked onto the Reaper's. Moments passed without either making a move. The various fights going on beside them were unnoticed. They were only aware of the other, waiting for the other to strike first.

Caled snapped her head back, striking the Orc that had grabbed her in the mouth. It stumbled back, one of its huge paw-like hands holding its bleeding mouth, the other keeping its hold on her arm that held the whip. She shook her head, dislodging a tooth or two from her hair, and clamped her jaw in determination, bracing the arm the Orc held. She swung backward, bringing her leg up and smashing it into the Orc's face. It released her as it fell into a heap.

She caught her breath, looking over at Legolas. She was surprised to see the Reaper still standing. She frowned and opened her mouth to speak. Something heavy connected with the side of her head, knocking her down. She groaned, her head swimming as she tried to get back up. A large, booted foot stomped on her stomach, forcing the air out of her lungs. She gasped, mentally cursing herself for missing one last Orc.

Legolas caught her gasp and tore his gaze away from the Reaper. His heart froze upon seeing an Orc standing over Caled, one foot planted firmly on her stomach. Dangling from its hand was Mornie in his cat form, unconscious. He only looked away from a second, but that was all the time the Reaper needed. It rushed forward and slammed into Legolas, bringing them both down. Legolas managed to grab the Reaper's wrists and was straining to force its lethal hands away from him. Try as he might, the Reaper was stronger than he was. It grinned before pushing harder with its right hand, the sharp fingertips digging into Legolas' left shoulder. It ripped into the wound he had, causing it to flare back to life again. Legolas grimaced, holding back a cry of pain as the strength and feeling in his left arm began to fade.

The Reaper hissed, ripping its hand out and jumping back just a bit, its violet eyes widening and suddenly growing lighter in hue as it locked with Legolas' pale blue ones.

"A Ka Tel wound!" it growled, a startled note in it's raspy voice. Its mouth pulled back in a sneer, cradling its hand as if it was injured. "How did you get that wound!" it demanded.

The Elf was astonished to hear it speak, staring at it in stunned silence.

"Don't answer!" Caled managed to shout, grunting as she threw her hand up at her opponent, the fireball quickly blowing up in its face. She scrambled up as the Orc fell, catching Mornie's prone body. She faced the Reaper, snapping her whip and shouting fiercely, "Come on, Reaper! Leave the Elf!" She smirked, tilting her head as the Reaper glared at her. "Or are you just scared?"

The Reaper crouched low, preparing to leap at Caled.

/**THUNK THUNK**

A scream came from the Reaper, reeling with such force it flipped backwards, landing on its back. It clawed at its face, unintelligible cries emphasizing each time its own claws raked its skin. Before long, it became still.

Caled turned her eyes from the Reaper to Legolas, confusion in her face. "What did you do?" she asked.

"I did nothing," he replied, standing up with a wince at moving his arm. He cautiously knelt next to the body, keeping a close eye on it in case it was still alive. Slowly he reached out and ran his good hand inches over its eyes. He stopped, feeling it hit two objects, one in each eyes. "Invisible?" he muttered, maneuvering his hand around one of them. With a jerk, he pulled it out.

Legolas scarcely had time to register that a small dagger was in his hand before the Reaper indeed came back to life, screaming and swinging its arm around to strike his head.

/**THUNK**

The Reaper jerked, collapsing face first to the ground, twitching but incapacitated.

Legolas frowned, his hand tightening on the invisible dagger in his hand. A cracking sounded. Bit by bit the dagger was beginning to show, flakes of whatever the substance was that covered it falling off like chipped paint. When it was completely gone, Legolas opened his hand and examined the dagger.

"What is it?" Caled asked, coming up next to him.

Legolas started to say that he did not know when like a rushing flood it hit him. In his mind he saw the previous fight with the group of Reapers days before. Then he did not know how it was killed. Now he understood. "How could I be so blind?" he thought aloud, standing.

Eyes narrowing, he looked out into the forest in front of him a few yards away. "Come out," he spoke in a strong voice. "I know you're out there."

Something within the forest flashed in the sun. Instinctively, Legolas jerked his head to the side just as a dagger identical to the one in his hand flew past it, hitting the tree behind him instead.

The sound of someone clapping came from the same area. "Nice reflexes, Greenleaf!" a voice complemented, a smirk evident in the tone. "More than I would ever give credit to a Prince."

----------


	8. Chapter VIII: The Thieves Guild

A. N.-- The Avari are the Elves that stayed in the Eastern parts of Middle-Earth. I'm not going to go into great detail but the jist of it is that Elves used to always be in the East lands, then they left except for those that did not want to. They are called the Avari and are copyrighted by Tolkien himself. I have no idea WHAT they look like, so I decided to make it up. Deal with it.

---

Chapter Eight - The Thieves Guild

Clouds began to gather in the sky, blocking the sun. The growing shadows hid the figure that slowly approached Legolas and Caled, materializing in an instant before them. Legolas wondered silently how they had hidden their presence from him.

"I'm a bit disappointed that you didn't notice it sooner, Greenleaf," the figure stated, reclining against the tree on the other side of the path from them. "I mean, there were a few mistakes that should've told you."

Legolas refused to let the sharp words get to him. Instead, he met the pair of green eyes flecked with blue and said sternly, "I was preoccupied, Denya."

Denya laughed, shaking her head. "Ever the comic," she said with a sigh, snapping her fingers. Around her, several cloaked forms began to come out of the forest. "Don't try to be a hero," she said, crossing her arms.

One of the forms came forward, throwing the hood back. It was a Elf with spiky blonde-brown hair and honey colored hazel eyes. "A storm is coming," he said, glancing around briefly before staying on Legolas and Caled. "We need to either make or find shelter fast." As if on cue, lightening flashed and thunder boomed in the close distance.

"Come with us," one of the cloaked forms said, the voice recognizable as Auron, "and we will explain all we know. You must come," he said again as another lightening bolt tore across the dark sky.

"First explain why your numbers have grown," Caled said, eyeing the ninth member of their group she had not seen before in their cave, notable by their short stature and the clasp that held the cloak shut just under the chin.

The ninth member nervously turned their head to look at Auron. He quickly stepped in front of them as if to protect them from Caled's suspicious glare.

"We've no time to stand around here with more of them coming!" the Elf with blonde-brown hair said, his voice proclaiming his anxiousness. "We must leave now!" The others nodded, beginning to retreat back into the forest. Denya and the Elf stayed, waiting for Legolas and Caled. "Come on," he said, motioning for them to follow. "Hurry," he stressed, tensing when they did not move.

Legolas hesitated, unsure as to if they should follow. Meryl's words were repeating themselves over and over in his mind. Then, for some reason, he nodded, and began to follow them, Caled close behind with her hand on her whip.

The blonde-brown haired Elf began to go in as well, but stopped when Denya went over to the Reaper still twitching on the ground. He sighed, worry in his face, "Leave it, Denya. It's already dead."

Denya knelt by the Reaper and looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes darkened with such a strong force of emotion he stepped back, his gut twisting with a brief rush of panic. "You should have learned by now that destroying the eyes is the way to kill them," she said with an instructive tone. "He pulled one out," she said, motioning with her head in the direction of Legolas.

"The other dagger will eventually kill him, now let's go!" he said, eyes darting around as if expecting something to pop out at them.

Denya ignored him and went back to the Reaper. She studied it for a second, biting her lip in thought. Using her Elven speed, she ripped the dagger out of the Reaper's back and flipped it around, catching hold of its thin neck and forcing it down.

It hissed, trying to claw her with its fingers. It soon realized that its limb would not move. "What have you done!" it demanded, eyes boring into hers like fire, both healing rapidly back to normal. One dagger was still embedded in a socket.

Denya laughed shortly, a small, almost sad half-smile forming on her lips. "This dagger not only severed your back bone," she said, twirling said dagger in hand, "it's also covered in a delightful poison that slowly but surely kills whatever it pierces. I can see it's starting to work already." The half-smile fell from her face and all mirth vanished from her countenance. A shadow veiled her features and her eyes hardened, an eerie blue glow emitting from their center. Her hand tightened its grip on the Reaper's neck. "But I don't like waiting for death to come to those I loath the most," she said in a low, hate filled voice.

The Reaper scoffed, beginning to say a snide remark, when it stopped. Its eyes widened, recognition and terror filling them. "Kaha'Dak!" it gasped.

"Yes, it seems your kind have dubbed me so," Denya replied, no emotion in her voice. Flipping the dagger in hand so she clasped the hilt, she drove it into the Reaper's remaining eye, going past the skull and into the ground. Without pausing, she ripped it out through the side of the head.

Standing, she regained control of her breathing which had grown heavy and shook her head as if to clear it. She casually flickered her wrist twice, ridding her dagger of the black blood that coated it. She raised her hood as the rain began to fall, following the others. "Let's go, Tan," she said hurriedly.

Tan stared numbly at the corpse, shock keeping him from registering her words. He quickly shook himself out of it, continuing after her with a slight shiver.

---

Denya and Tan found the others deep in the forest. They had found several boulders that stacked together to form a shelter that would suit their needs for the night. It curved around in a semi-circle and stretched high overhead, sloping down to protect them from the rain. A fire was already going yet they had not removed their hoods and cloaks. Legolas and Caled were standing on one side of the shelter and the rest were doing the same on the other side.

Denya rolled her eyes as she removed her cloak and hood, shaking it then laying it down by the fire to dry. From out of the cloak emerged a black ferret, which ran up to Denya and climbed onto her shoulders. "Enough of the glares," she said, shooting Auron a look. She turned back to Legolas and Caled. "We won't hurt you."

"So you say," Legolas replied.

Denya snorted, sitting on the ground beside the fire. "Why don't you trust us, Greenleaf?" she asked.

He said nothing.

Denya sighed, rubbing her head before saying, "Fine. I get the picture." She closed her eyes and raised her left arm, muttering strange words. Almost instantly Legolas and Caled felt the bracelets around their necks loosen then lift, floating over to Denya and shrinking down to their original size on her arm. She opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow in question. "Now do you trust us?"

"Wh-Why did you do that?" Caled said, stumbling over her words, her hand touching her neck as if the bracelet would snap back on if she did not.

Denya smirked, "What? You rather have it on?"

"No!" Caled said quickly, throwing her hands up to ward her off. "It's just that you wanted the jewel and would kill us if we didn't get it back to you on time."

Snickering came from a few of the others. Denya shot them a dark look before turning back to Caled and Legolas. "I am truly sorry," she said, a genuinely apologetic tone in her voice, "but that was a lie. There is no jewel. As far as we know anyway," she added, shrugging.

Legolas frowned, confused. "Then why? Why threaten us for a jewel that doesn't exist and place cursed jewelry on us that would kill us if we did not return in six months?"

"First off," Auron said, taking off his hood and sitting on the ground beside Denya, motioning for Legolas and Caled to sit down a well, "the jewelry wasn't cursed. They could do you no harm even if Denya wanted them to. We used them as beacons we so if we lost your trail we could easily find you two."

"You were following us?" Legolas and Caled said in unison.

Denya grinned. "Of course! We don't break Pacts!"

"What she means," Auron said, motioning for Denya to be quiet, "is that we made a sacred promise--a Pact--with someone. If ever we found a traveler bearing the sign from them, we were to assist them in anyway we could and then some. If we did not or if we failed or if the traveler died, we would pay with our lives. Denya found his sign and told us before we overstepped our boundaries. We again ask you to forgive our harsh actions towards you both in our first meeting." He ended with a slight bowing motion. As one, the others behind him as well as Denya did the same.

Lightly stunned by this new information, Legolas and Caled exchanged glances, unsure of if they were speaking the truth. "Who was the one you made this 'Pact' with?" Legolas said slowly, trying to word it correctly.

A sly smile spread across Auron's face. "It has been almost thirty years since any of our group has had contact with him so I do not know if his title has changed at all. But the last time we saw him he was called Gandalf the Grey Wizard."

The last statement caused both Caled and Legolas to stare in disbelief at him.

"I saw his seal on that package you had," Denya said, looking at Legolas. "I don't want to know what he would've done if we hadn't found out when we did."

"Any questions?" Auron said, his smile ever present at the confusion in their faces.

"Yes," Legolas managed to say. "Why are you following us? I mean, you could have just given us supplies or something of the like and stayed behind. Why go with us?"

Auron did not answer. He looked at Denya, who looked at the others behind them, who looked at each other, save the one on the far end, closest to the entrance. They waited, as if to hear from that one individual. Reluctantly, the hood moved up and down in an affirmative. Once again, Denya and Auron looked at each other, then stood. "It is past time we introduced ourselves," Auron said, his voice now proud and strong.

"Tan and Dias, " he began, motioning to two of them. The elf they had met earlier nodded his head; another figure removed the hood to show a young Elf with deep blue eyes shot with silver and hair that was frost white. "Dias hails from the Forest of Lothlorien. Tan…is from the North."

The slight pause he gave made Legolas study Tan closely.

"That is Darin," he continued, motioning with his hand to the one at the end of the line. Darin removed his hood to reveal a head of blonde hair that fell around his thin shoulders, a strip of white cloth tied around his forehead to prevent his bangs from falling in his sea-blue eyes, which were staring at Legolas with a gaze that was of both respect and fear. "Darin is from Northern Mirkwood." At this, Darin's eyes jerked to meet Auron's, warning flashing in them. Auron merely smirked.

"Clad," the large form drew back the hood only enough to where his face could barely be seen. His eyes were hidden under his short yet thick red hair. He quickly hid his face once again. Yet in that instance Legolas and Caled saw both the runic symbols that ran both sides of his thick neck, stretching up just past his jaw, and the pointed tips of his ears. Caled frowned, puzzled, for she did not understand what they meant.

Legolas, however, tensed and quickly reached for the hilt of his long knife. He had seen symbols like those before and he was not too fond of the memory. The hulking figure before them was a Berserker—rather, Half-Berserker, if the shape of his ears was any clue. Either way, that Race was known for their brutality and bloodlust.

Feeling eyes on him, he glanced over to see that Denya was glaring at him, fingering a dagger in her hand as if contemplating where she should impale him with it. Her eyes told him enough: _Don't stare at him, don't say anything about it, act normal and I won't hurt you._ Far from being comforted, Legolas forced himself to relax, confident he would be quick enough if Clad acted as Legolas thought he would.

"Anex," the tall, thin form shrugged off both cloak and hood, revealing a shocking blue head of hair that was down past his waist, gathered together with a leather band at the base of his neck. He had thick bangs that swept over the right side of his face. His visible bright green eye looked at Caled and Legolas with a gaze that spoke volumes of stern discipline and control, sending a shiver down Caled's spine while Legolas levelly met it with question. "An Avari," Auron added with a smirk at them.

"'Avari'?" Legolas repeated, shooting in to a standing position, disbelief in his fair face. Clad was pushed out of his mind for the moment in light of this. "That cannot be!"

"Why not?" Anex said. "Why do you think it is so impossible, Prince Legolas?"

"The Avari have never crossed to the West!" Legolas said. "If you are truly one, then why are you here!"

"What does it matter why I am here?" he said with a shrug. "I am here, that is enough for my peace of mind. Sit down, Prince Legolas. You will see in time."

Seeing that he would not get a real answer, Legolas sighed and sat down, letting Auron continue.

"Rali," the large, bulky form was a burly individual with a mass of rusty brown hair that went to his broad shoulders. He was tall, taller than any of the others, and stood straight and proud. His thick arms crossed his chest as he gave a slight head nod in acknowledgement. His eyes were dark and glittered as if an amusing thought was ever in his head. Strapped to his waist was an item Legolas recognized.

With an unexpected pang in his chest, he saw that it was a Dwarf ax. Fond memories of the Dwarf Gimli came to his mind, somehow softening the realization that Rali must be a Half-Dwarf—as with Clad, his ears told a different story.

"Aurora," the petite form that had not been present before removed the hood. She grinned, winking a brown eye at them. Her curly hair was a reddish-blonde fell down to her back.

"Denya," she as well grinned.

"And Auron," he said coming to himself.

All of them then knelt on one knee, clapping their right hand to their chest and bowing their heads. "We," they spoke as one, their voices echoing in the shelter, "under the Pact of Gandalf, swear to uphold his wishes, even through death." They raised their heads, and Auron said, "So swears the Thieves Guild."

---

A chilling wind blew the windows open, whistling through the leaves of the trees behind the dwelling place. Meryl shot up in her bed, the alarming voices from her sleep making her fully awake. An evil, vile presence was there, in her house. "The children," she gasped, grabbing a lamp that stood on a nearby stand. She hurried to her door and to open it.

But something beat her to it.

The door was torn open and a form came through it, causing Meryl to freeze in her steps. It was a Reaper, its eyes glowing a malicious light red hue, mimicking the stripe of hair on the front of its head. It grinned, towering over Meryl.

The old woman was shaking as fear began to consume her. Her eyes were not set on the Reaper though. They were focused behind it, at what lay through the broken doorway. Even though it was dark, her lamp's light extinguished when it fell from her hand, she could make out the bodies of the children that had been in her care. All dead; their bodies had been torn apart.

"It was foolish to help the Elf, hag," the Reaper before her said in a solid, thick voice unlike the rest of its kind which were usually raspy and gravely. "And it was even more foolish to help Caled-Veleg. You have been sentenced to death!" It swung its arm around, ripping its fingers through her torso. She fell to the ground like a rag doll, her blood flowing around her.

The Reaper turned and walked through the doorway, stepping over the corpses of the children as if they were not there. Ahead of it, in the shadows of the hallway, was another of its kind. It was hunched over, its arms curled closed to its body as if it was scared. Its head was turning this way and that as if looking for something to emerge. This Reaper's hair was strange, not having just one but many stripes of silvery white running all through its black hair. Its eyes were a glowing white color and its skin was pure black instead of violet.

The other Reaper looked upon this one with something akin to scorn in its eyes as it approach them. "What are you doing, Na'Tath?" it spoke. Na'Tath did not reply but looked up at the other Reaper. The Reaper scoffed, then slapped Na'Tath with the back of its hand, sending it crashing to the blood soaked floor. The Reaper continued and walked out of sight without a second look back.

Na'Tath quickly got back up as soon as the other was gone. It looked over at the body of Meryl and found that she was still alive. Muttering to itself, the Reaper crossed the distance and stood over Meryl, a strange expression on its face. It pulled back a hand, shaking its head.

Before it could deliver the blow, Meryl threw her hand up and caught hold of the Reaper's. It jerked, startled that she still had enough energy in her to make the action.

"...N-Na'Tath..." Meryl said, her breathing labored. The Reaper stopped, shocked that she knew its name. "...you...you must...stop...him," she said, straining to continue. "...please...help...them..."

"How can I oppose him?" said Na'Tath, its voice soft and timid.

"...y-you...must...help...Kaha'Dak..."

"Kaha'Dak!" Na'Tath gasped, not believing what she had heard.

Behind them, Na'Tath heard a startled shout and the sound of the other Reaper laughing darkly. A familiar surge of energy swept through Na'Tath, followed by fear. The Voice was urgently ordering her to retreat, yet the grip on her hand stayed her impulse to obey.

"...help Kaha'Dak...you...must...find...her..." Meryl repeated.

"She will kill me on sight! That is her vow!" Na'Tath whispered, trembling as it felt the other Reaper making its retreat.

"…help…her…"

Na'Tath shook its head before slashing its fingers across Meryl neck, killing her quickly. It stood and quickly left, the woman's plea making it shiver unconsciously.

---

Aurora bit her lip, her eyes looking at the unconscious Mornie in Caled's arms sitting across the fire. It was about an hour after Auron had introduced them to the two. Legolas, Auron, Tan, and Dias were on one side of the shelter, no doubt answering questions Legolas had. Denya and Clad were standing guard at the entrance, one each side. Anex, Rali, and Darin had gone into the woods to hunt despite the rain. The only sounds that could be heard were the hushed tones of the four opposite her and Denya humming to herself while she carved at her woodblock, her ferret asleep in her lap as she was sitting on the ground.

Aurora wanted to speak up and say what was on her mind to Caled, but she was afraid. Her mind was telling her to keep her mouth shut but her heart was urging her to do so. She had been wrestling like this since she had laid her eyes on the poor creature. Finally, she cleared her throat and said in a quiet voice, "Let me see your mornie."

Caled had been deep in thought and was surprised to hear Aurora speak. "What?" she said.

"Your mornie," Aurora said again. "I--I can help him. I know what's wrong with him."

Caled looked at her curiously. She had noticed the Mornie had not awoken even though she tried to make him and that his breathing was becoming irregular. She knew something was wrong with him but she did not know what it was. She considered what little she knew of this girl. She could tell just by looking into her brown eyes that she would not harm Mornie more than he already was, but she still could not beat down the thoughts in her mind that made her want to snap at Aurora to leave her alone—glaring at the features that said she was an Elf. Before she knew it, she was nodding and standing, making her way to sit beside Aurora. She carefully handed Mornie to Aurora, who took him with gentle hands.

Aurora laid him in her lap and began to quickly yet skillfully examine Mornie, whispering in a soft voice to him to help him be at ease. She checked his breathing, heartbeat, as well as his eyes, nose, and mouth. Her brow knitted together as she thought hard about something while doing this. "Orc Dust," she said under her breath as she picked up a large bag sitting beside her and started to unload some of its content.

Caled raised an eyebrow. Most of the items were small yet sturdy looking bottles or flasks, all stopped with a cork at the end. There were a few packets made out of paper. A strange scent emitted from the items. It was sort of the same smell that medicine had. "What is all this?" Caled asked, her curiosity overpowering her disgust of conversing with her.

A smile spread on Aurora's face. "It's my trade, you could say," she replied, taking out a large bowl. She began to carefully measure and pour some of the contents of the bottles into it, spinning the bowl to mix it when a new ingredient was added. "I specialize in medicine and herbal healing," she said. "It's why the bounty's so high."

"'Bounty'?" Caled repeated, confused.

Aurora nodded, then stopped, an embarrassed look on her face. "Oh, that's right. You don't know." She bit her lip, glancing over at Auron. Then, wiping her hands on a clean rag, she reached into her bag and pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment. She handed it to Caled wordlessly.

Taking it, Caled unrolled it. Her eyes scanned the parchment, then suddenly widened. Snapping her head up, she met Aurora's embarrassed and amused smile. "You have a bounty on your head!" Caled whispered, not wanting to draw attention to her.

Aurora giggled. "I love that reaction!" Taking the flyer back, she gazed at it fondly. It held not only her image and a hefty sum printed under it, but an image of Auron as well. She shrugged, rolling it up and putting it away. "Yes," she said, sighing. "Auron and I are both outlaws. Have been for a few centuries."

"Centuries?" Caled looked back at Auron. He did not look a day over twenty-five, thirty tops.

Again, Aurora giggled, and began to work with the strange medicines. "I thought you saw the resemblance? Auron's my brother."

Caled's wide-eyed look of utmost astonishment sent Aurora into another bought of laughter. "Brother? But he—You—the—" Caled was certainly at a loss for words. She was making a vague motion around her ears.

Stilling her laugh back down to a chuckle, Aurora reached up and tugged her own pointed ear. "They do cause confusion, don't they?" she asked. Still smiling, she returned to the strange mixture she was making. She carefully measured out a pale yellow liquid into the bowl. She then pulled out a long ceramic tool and began to blend the mixture. "Father was Man," Aurora said, her smile turning nostalgic. "Our mother was a Lorien Elf. I don't remember her—she was killed shortly before I was two years old. Orcs," she added as an afterthought. "Father and Auron both agree that I look just like her. We've yet to figure out why Auron's appearance is that of Man and mine of Elf." She shrugged again. "Chalk it up to chance, I guess."

Aurora paused, giving the mixture one final stir. Then, gently opening Mornie's mouth, she began to poor the semi-liquid contents of the bowl. When it was about half-way empty, she stopped, setting the bowl aside. She checked Mornie again, noting that his breathing was slowing and becoming steadier. Looking up at Caled, she carefully handed the still creature to her. "He should wake up in a few days. When he does, he needs to finish this off." She then retrieved an empty flask and began pouring the rest of the mixture into it.

"How did you learn so much about these?" Caled found herself asking, motioning to the various flasks and things.

Aurora smiled again, this one a touch sadder. "Fate conspires against us," she said softly. "I can't count the number of times our lives were nearly lost. With our lot in life, injuries are as normal as a sneeze. I always had a knack for picking up on herbal remedies. Healing is second-nature to me now, ever since……" She trailed off, her brown eyes misting.

"Why?" Caled asked, her interest perked.

The firelight cast an odd shadow over Aurora's face. Her gaze became stony, flickering with hate. "We're the Thieves Guild," she said slowly. "Yet that is not the name we chose for ourselves. It is the name we acquired in our travels. Being outlaws does not insure a source of income. If we needed something we took it." Another shrug. "We have no remorse about it. We all were the victims of thieves as well," her voice grew soft yet cold. "But the thief was the world, and what it stole can never be replaced or taken back."

Aurora stopped, her expression now one of acceptance. "Our lot in life," she said simply. "We've learned to—" She stopped abruptly, her head snapping around to look at the entrance.

"What?" Caled asked, the look on Aurora's face was not comforting. She turned to look as well.

Auron, Tan, and Dias were oblivious to the others, answering the questions Legolas had for them. Especially Dias.

"Where you that man in the bar the other day?" Legolas asked the white-haired Elf. "Your voice is the same as his was after when he walked out with the girl."

"Yes, I am," Dias said, chuckling to himself as he shook his head. "I should had realized you would have heard us after we deactivated the disguises."

"Deactivated?" Legolas repeated.

"It would be better for you to see the next time we need to use them," Auron answered, glancing at Tan and Dias.

"Who was the girl?" came Legolas' next question, having learned that when Auron gave an answer like that it was the only kind of answer he would ever get. "You seemed to know her fairly well."

"It was Aurora. And yes, she also had a disguise in place," Dias said before he could ask. "But no, she really was drunk," he added with a laugh.

"Quiet!" Tan suddenly hissed, eyes turned to the entrance.

The whole shelter was now silent all eyes on Denya. Some time ago she had stopped humming, which is what had caught Aurora's attention. She was staring down at her left wrist, at one of the innumerable bracelets there. She stood, keeping her gaze where it was, her woodblock falling to the floor and the ferret waking up, scampering around by her feet.

Aurora rushed over to Denya, whispering, "What is it? What's wrong!"

Denya did not answer. Instead, she reached over and pulled the bracelet free, raising it up to eye level. Aurora saw which one it was and gasped softly, her hand covering her mouth in a gesture of horror.

The bracelet was thick, studded the whole way around with several white crystals that glowed slightly. One crystal was pulsing, slowing down bit by bit until it stopped. the crystal fell out of the bracelet, landing in Denya's hand under it, the remaining ones shifting to fill in the gap. Denya closed her hand around the crystal, turning to face those inside the shelter.

"Meryl's dead," she said, her voice full of grief but her face filled with raw hate. "They got her." Without warning, she growled and threw the crystal to the floor, shattering it. Then she ran out of the entrance, disappearing into the forest.

"Denya!" Aurora cried, starting to go after her.

"Wait!" Dias said, grabbing her by the shoulder to stop her. "Let her go," he said. "She'll be back. Just give her time."

Aurora turned back, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. "A-All right," she stammered, trying to wipe her face clean. Dias wrapped his arms around her, letting her cry into his chest, whispering soothing words to her.

Legolas looked at Auron and Tan, the latter of whom looked to be on the verge of tears as well. "Meryl? The fortune teller?" he said.

Auron nodded, a regretful look on his face. "She was an old contact we had known for several decades," he said, shaking his head slightly. "You saw her when you were in the village, correct?"

Legolas mutely nodded his head, not wanting to discuss what he had seen.

Auron seemed to understand. "**_You don't have to say what she showed you,_**" he spoke in Sindarin, surprising the Prince of Mirkwood with his flawless speech. "**_Just answer this: in the visions, did you hear a voice? If so, what kind?_**"

Legolas was silent, not wanting his mind to bring the images forth. "**_Yes,_**" he replied, speaking in his home language in hopes to keep Caled from becoming curious. "**_It was the voice of a child._**"

Something flashed through Auron's face, then it was gone. "**_Don't let Caled or the mornie find out what you saw,_**" he said earnestly. He glanced at them, saying, "**_It's best that they never know. For their sake as well as yours._**"

----------


	9. Chapter IX: Moonlit Screams

Chapter Nine - Moonlight Screams

The rain pounded against the three hunters, seeking to penetrate through their clothes. Had they been normal humans they would be freezing. But they were far from normal, even by their own standards. They were in a single file, each listening intently around them for some animal to give itself away so they could bring it back for the rest of their group to eat.

But one of them seemed to have something on his mind. He kept slowing down, sometimes stopping and standing for a few moments before catching up with the other two in front of him. Being able to take no more, the one directly ahead of him turned around, pushing his hood back enough so the other could see his face. "Darin, what is it?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

Darin, unable to bring himself to meet the other's gaze, studied a nearby grouping of plants. "Why, Anex?" he said. "Why must he know where I came from? Why did Auron tell him that?"

Anex sighed, slightly smiling at his friend's last question. "Auron's thoughts are impenetrable," he said, hoping to give more condolence than anger to Darin, "and we may never know why Auron revealed it. But your long time with him should tell you that he has a reason."

Darin snorted, rolling his sea-blue eyes in annoyance. "I envy you, Anex," he said, beginning to walk after the third member of their party.

"Whatever for?" Anex inquired, glad to have gotten Darin's mind on another subject.

"You have had to put up with him for less years than I," Darin replied. "He knows just how to irritate me."

"That seems to be his forte."

Just as he spoke, they nearly ran into Rali who had come to an abrupt stop. "What's wrong?" Darin said, hand going for his weapon hidden in his cloak.

Rali gave no indication that he heard him. He was staring at something just ahead of them.

Anex came forward, moving around Rali. He paused, noticing something on the ground. He bent down to get a better look. It was blood. He quickly got back up and moved forward, parting the thick underbrush with his long sword so they all could see what was ahead.

Shock and astonishment overcame their minds. Scarcely five feet in front of them was the corpse of a huge, cat-like creature, massive and heavy-muscled. The cause of death was obvious: it had had its throat ripped out after being slashed in countless places.

Though all that was shocking, what made them stop was the figure standing beside the corpse. Even with their keen eyesight, the three could not tell who or what it was in the darkness; just that it was humanoid and breathing heavily, the breath fogging in the cold air. A flash of lightning illuminated the face of the figure.

Denya. She stood, eyes glaring at the cat-creature in case it was still alive. Her cloak was missing and her black clothes were soaked with rain and blood, her hair dripping with it and it was splashed all across her pale-skinned body. Her hands were clasped tightly around the hilts of twin blades, which were bigger than her throwing knives. Her face was the very essence of hate and madness; her eyes burned like a fire.

The three stood in their places, too stunned to do anything. Then, getting his senses back, Darin slowly advanced towards Denya. "Denya," he said in a non-threatening tone.

She raised her head, meeting his eyes with hers. Darin stepped back surprised to find they were glowing slightly, pulsing in unison with her heartbeat. He mentally got a hold of himself, saying, "Denya, what's wrong?"

She did not say anything, staring at him with an ice-cold gaze. Then, she spoke. "Meryl's dead. The Reapers killed her." Her voice was low and thick, cutting into Darin's heart like a knife.

Before he could reply, she turned and walked off. "Denya! Wait!" he called after her. "Where are you going?"

"To clean up," she replied a touch of her usual self starting to show through. "I'll be back before dawn, so don't worry. You can take the cat back, by the way. It's edible."

Darin started to ask how she knew that when a scattering sound caught his attention. He looked down to see that her ferret was all ready helping itself to part of the cat-creature's dismembered arm. He shrugged and motioned for the other two to help him gut it.

---

When they got back, they found a somber atmosphere in the shelter. Aurora was in Dias' lap, crying quietly to herself as he tried to calm her. Auron and Legolas were discussing something in low tones. Tan had taken Denya's post, his face streaked with dried tears. Clad was as emotionless as ever.

Caled, still holding the unconscious Mornie, looked up at them as they entered. "Did you see Denya?" she asked.

Anex nodded. "She managed to bring down this," he said, shrugging off his load of the cat-creature's meat. The shelter's occupants stared in surprise at the quantity the three managed to carry.

"Where is she now?" Auron asked.

"She went into the forest," Rali replied. "She was saying something about going to clean up."

"Did she say when she'll be back?" At their negative responses, Auron bit back a curse. "She should know this area will be crawling with Reapers," he fumed.

"I think she can take care of herself," Tan replied, skewering piece of meat and holding it over the fire.

Auron shook his head. "That's not it," he said. "You and Dias were not here the last time something like this happened." At the grave tone in his voice, the others looked at him, curious as well as a bit nervous. "It took over a week to find her, and even then it took another two before she regained control of her mind."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Caled said, "What do you mean 'regained control', Auron?"

Auron stopped. He tried to appear calm as he all ways was, but his eyes betrayed his worry. "I cannot explain it to you," he said, "for I do not even know the entire story. Denya has little if any mental and emotional stability when it comes to the Reapers. Depending on the situation, she can bring herself out of it. It's just a question of how long. It would be best if we leave her alone for now. This is her way of dealing with the situation."

As this was being said, no one saw Clad raise his head, look into the distance, and sprint off silently.

---

Denya really did not know where she was going. She was just walking through the forest aimlessly. Her senses were for the most part numbed by the rage that was still flowing through her. Her vision was impaired, outlined in a red haze. Everything sounded muted. The only sense that did work was smell. Before she felt it, she smelled it. The crisp, clean scent of water was all around her.

She looked down, forcing her eyes to focus. She was standing in a small lake; maybe pond would be a better term for it, the water just to her knees. Her reflection stared back at her; the pulsing glow in her eyes gave her an evil appearance with her body covered in blood. Slowly, almost on their own accord, her arms raised her palms upward. She stared at her hands.

Inside her head, the voices came. She shook her head, trying to stop it. Her hands clenched so tightly that her nails cut into her skin, drawing more blood. "**_Stop it,_**" she ground out through gritted teeth. "**_Stop it. Stop it! Stop it! LEAVE ME ALONE!_**" she shouted, throwing her head back. Her voice echoed throughout the forest, disturbing its inhabitants from their sleep. She rushed forward, going deeper into the water. She dunked herself into the frigid cold, wishing it would block out the words her rage was bringing to the front of her mind.

'_I'm going after him,'_ one said.

'_Not alone, you're not, Evan,'_ another replied.

_Shut up,_ Denya thought, her hands clasping against her head as she sunk into the water's depths. _Shut up!_

'_I would not have it any other way, Denya. I need you there…to watch my back.' _

_'I'll be there, old friend. I'll be there...'_

Tears slipped pass her tightly closed eyes. Her lungs burned for air. She briefly contemplated whether or not she should even go up to breathe. She seriously considered just staying down there. On their own, her legs kicked, propelling her through the water, bursting through the surface and breathing deeply. She cursed her lack of control, raising her head to look at moon in the sky.

Her eyes narrowed, their glow suddenly becoming stronger and no longer pulsing. "**_Why?_**" she shouted, slamming her fists against the water. "**_Why? Why couldn't I have kept my own word? Why did it have to be her? Why didn't it pick me? Why? Answer me, damn it all!_**" The moon only looked back, shining steadily as if taunting her. She screamed out her anger and grief, nearly tearing her vocal chords. A loud clap of thunder answered her, lightening striking not far off from where she was. She fell back, floating on the water. Her energy burned out. Her eyes slowly returned to normal.

Denya sighed, searching the sky. "**_What would you have done?_**" she whispered. "**_Would you be here if it was you?_**"

"Denya."

The Elven maiden nearly collapsed back into the water when the voice spoke her name. She stood, looking back to the bank. There stood Clad, standing under a tree to keep out of the rain, which was now slowing down to a drizzle. "Denya right, _le_?" he asked. His worry showed in the way he slipped into his old habit of mixing Weston and his native tongue, namely the adding of '_le_' to the end of his questions.

Denya smiled a bit, wading through the water to him. "Yes, Clad. I'm fine now."

"Denya scream, _le_?"

She adverted her eyes, saying in a low voice, "To let out my frustrations on the world. On fate."

Clad nodded. "Denya fate cruel," he said in a soft voice. "Evan fate crueler."

"Do not speak that name!" Denya hissed, snapping her gaze onto him. "Evan is dead! Never speak of her again!" She moved pass him, heading back to the shelter.

Clad paused, saying, mostly to himself, "Evan do same thing, _le_? _Denya_ do same thing, _le_?"

His words struck a chord in Denya's soul, causing her to stumble, grabbing onto a tree to stay upright. Her throat involuntarily clenched against the lump forming there. "Shut up, Clad," she whispered hoarsely, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to pour out. "Just shut up."

---

Not a word was spoken about the night's events by anyone the next morning. Denya was back to her normal self, only a slight cold tone in her voice that appeared occasionally remained. They started back on the trail, the Guild making Caled and Legolas feel as though they were of part of them. Aurora and Denya started a conversation with Caled while Auron and Dias did as well with Legolas. Despite their various differences, the Guild was fairly easy to talk to. It became obvious that they enjoyed conversing very much. Through their talks, they found out a great deal about them.

Denya and Aurora were extremely close, which might have been due to the fact that they were the only females in the group. Aurora was at times very serious and Denya hardly ever was. It seemed to be her goal in life to be a troublemaker and give people gray hair.

Asking a few key questions, they gathered that Denya was her skilled wither her hands. Not only was she lethally accurate with throwing knives and daggers, she was a talented pickpocket to boot. When asked about the bracelets, Denya smiled a sad half-smile and said that someone had taught her the art of magic-smith—the ability to infuse objects with magic as you make them, therefore making them far stronger than objects that had spells cast on them. She said that each one of the bracelets on her arms had certain magic to it, each different in one way or another, and she had made them all herself. The majority of the jewelry the others wore were also results of her magic-smithing.

Aurora was the only one who was a decent cook (she gave warning to Caled and Legolas never to try any of Denya's cooking if they enjoyed their health, then something about a salted pork incident). She also had a very limited amount of fighting skills, preferring the bow and arrow since it was the only weapon she was good with.

Auron appeared to be all business and stoic attitude but was really a good natured person. He just knew when he needed to be serious and cold-hearted and when he did not have to be. He was the mastermind behind the Guild, organizing their movements to ensure the least possible detection, as well as keeping up with their connections scattered throughout Middle-Earth. His weapons were bow as well as sword.

Dias was an Elf that was in fact a student of Lady Galadriel herself. He had studied magic and spell casting under her careful guidance and was a powerful sorcerer in his own right. Though he knew and acknowledged his immensely powerful abilities, he was not egotistical or self-centered as one would think. He cared greatly for those around him and all ways thought of them first. That was the reason his hair was white instead of blonde as it had been at birth. A wayward ice spell he had been trying to cast went berserk and would have destroyed a large piece of the Lorien forest had he not absorbed it into himself. The side effects were his hair and eye color had permanently altered and a unique ability where he could lower his body temperature to below freezing levels, making whatever he touched turn to ice. He was the only one besides Auron capable of staying levelheaded at all times and was a calming factor for the group. His choice of weapon was of course his magic, but he also had a short sword.

Tan was a very active Elf to say the least. He could not sit still and all ways had to be occupied with something. He would disappear for several minutes then show up out of no where and report on what was up ahead. His was good with his hands like Denya, but he was slightly clumsy when it came to pick pocketing. He was in expert in stealth and never made a sound; even when he was walking, Legolas could barely hear his footsteps. His weapon was a pair of what he called sai: a handheld weapon with three sharp spikes, the middle one double the size of the outer two. The handles were wrapped with dark blue leather, a black tassel hanging from the end.

Though he was intimidating in his appearance, Rali was a friendly individual. He did not seem to be bothered by the way Caled kept looking at his ears, as if to be sure they really were pointed. Auron had stated that despite the fact Rali did not personally know his parents--they had left two objects with him that linked to his ancestors--he knew that whatever reason they had for conceiving him was beyond him learning of it and had long since grown use to people giving him looks. If one got to talk to Rali, they would soon be won over by his charming personality and forget about his intimidating appearance. His talent of getting on people's good side assisted with his control over their resources network. Whatever information they got first came through him. His choice of weapon was a large double headed ax, left by his father. Around his neck he wore a thin silver chain, a medallion of Elven design hanging from it, left by his mother.

Clad was the only quiet, secretive one. He all ways brought up the rear of the group, just in case they were attacked from behind he would be hit first. He rarely talked and when he did it was almost all ways to either Denya or Auron. His kept his hood drawn over his face, hiding his features. His cloak, however, was thrown back, revealing a tall, well-muscled body and a large broadsword hanging at his waist.

Anex was a wonderful conversationalist, getting himself into and winning many debates with Legolas over one thing or another. He and Auron had similar thoughts on many subject matters and as Denya pointed out with a snort, they almost thought the same. His weapon was a strange sword. Instead of being completely straight like normal swords, his had a slight curve that could only be noticed at the end, which ended in a point. He called it a katana blade.

Darin, they were told, was also an enjoyable person to be around, but he was silent that day. He kept up the pace, walking about a yard ahead of the rest. He occasionally glanced back, glaring at Legolas for some reason. Denya was a bit miffed at his behavior.

"What crawled up his butt?" she fumed, arms crossed and her eyes narrowed after the last time Darin looked back. "Jeez! You would think after being alive for a thousand years or so, a guy would learn some manners!" She cracked her knuckles, muttering, "I'm gonna pound some into him!"

Seeing that Denya was now off in her own little world, Caled whispered to Aurora, "Are Denya and Darin close? She acts like he's her lover or something."

Aurora restrained a giggle. "They are close, but nothing like that!" she said, grinning. "They are siblings in every way but blood. Denya sees Darin as the brother she never had and hates it when he acts out of character."

"Whatever!" Denya sighed, shrugging. Her face suddenly lit up and she grinned mischievously. She looked at Aurora, winked, then skipped up beside Legolas. "Hey, Greenleaf?" she said. "Can I ask a question?"

"What is it, Denya?" he replied, wondering why she was walking so close to him.

Her face turned into one of a cross between serious and cunning, asking, "Do you have a wife?"

That question was the last one Legolas expected to hear, making him stop in his tracks and stare at her. "Excuse me?" he managed to say.

"Are you married?" Denya said again.

By now the others had stopped, Tan reappearing with a puzzled look on his face. They were for the most part looking at Denya, question in their faces. Caled, however, was looking at Legolas. For some reason, she found herself thinking the same question. _Idiot!_ she mentally scolded herself. _Why do you care about this putrid creature's martial status? He's an Elf! You had best remember that for your own good!_ Yet her hands clenched together unconsciously in anticipation, the hand holding the sleeping Mornie tightening its hold.

Getting his wits about him, Legolas said, "No, I am not married."

Denya cocked her head to the side. "Got anyone in mind?"

Afraid of where this was leading, Legolas hesitantly answered, "Not particularly..."

Without warning, Denya grinned widely, glomped onto his arm and squealed, "Perfect! No one can steal you away from me!"

The Guild stared at her like she had said the most insane thing imaginable. Legolas was in shock so he could not remove her from him or say otherwise. Caled was in almost the same state as Legolas, except that her right eye was twitching. With a light growling noise, Caled started back on the path, saying over her shoulder, "Are you coming, or am I going to complete this mission alone, Elf?"

Her words rocked Legolas back into reality and he quickly detached Denya from him, calling after Caled to wait up. Denya stood there, watching them, a strange gleam in her eyes as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. _Looks like I'm going to have to fight for him after all._

----------


	10. Chapter X: Puzzles Without Pieces

Chapter Ten - Puzzles Without Pieces

The Fortune-Teller Meryl had been murdered, along with thirty some orphans that had been under her care. The murderer was unknown and the village wondered if they would ever find out the mystery behind it. The house had been soaked with too much blood, making it unsuitable to sell. The landlord ordered it to be burned.

In the trees of the forest on the edge of the land behind the house, a Reaper watched the rising smoke columns lift into the air, the fire's flames consuming not only the house but also the many corpses within it. This Reaper did not watch with scorn, hate, or even the perverse glee like so many of its kind would have done. It watched in sadness and question. It had given Meryl a quick death by slashing her neck as opposed to its partner's slow, agonizing death of ripping her bowels out. It had stayed behind to make sure none of its kind found out about that.

The Reaper closed its arms around itself, rubbing them as a cold wind blew. By the Voice, why was it such a weak-willed creature, giving into the temptation to deliver something its kind loathed: a painless death? If this deed had been found out...

The Reaper gazed at the fire, its large white eyes fixed on the place Meryl's body had been lain. "If the Voice does find out," it whispered to the wind, "I will do as she wished. Though I would be condemning myself to certain torture, I will find out Kaha'Dak and tell her what I know."

---

"Let's stop for a while," Darin said suddenly, breaking the tension that had started to grow within the group behind him and Tan.

The tension was mainly from Caled, Legolas, and Denya. Denya had decided it would be fun to jump Legolas and force him to carry her on his back. Caled was glaring at the ground in front of her, stomping onwards. Her jaw was clamped tightly shut, her teeth grinding every time Denya called Legolas by her nickname for him: "Leafy." She was also beginning to get annoyed by the sultry tone Denya was using when speaking to Legolas. Aurora would try to detach Denya from Legolas, succeed, and then groan in frustration when Denya hopped back on. Auron and Anex were walking at a slower pace, talking about something. The rest were just walking.

"Why so soon?" Tan asked.

Darin motioned up to the sun. "It's noon. Time for a meal and practice."

"Oh, that's right," Tan said, nodding.

"'Practice'?" Legolas repeated, attempting to untangle Denya's arms from around his neck.

"We don't want our skills to get rusty," Anex supplied, shaking his head as he stopped behind Legolas. "Denya, leave him alone," he said in a stern voice, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her off the Elven Prince. Instead of letting her go, he simply kept his arms raised, letting her hang in the air.

"Hey! Cut it out!" she said, trying to squirm out of his hands.

"Denya, Anex," Auron said as he sat down and leaned against a tree, taking out a pipe and beginning to smoke it, "you two begin."

Denya shot Anex a dark look as he set her down, grumbling, "Thanks, pal. I've forgotten to practice for three days! I'm not ready!"

"And because of that neglect, Denya," Auron said, smirking, "you are not allowed your blades. Put them all over here." He motioned to a large piece of cloth he had lain out in front of him. "We'll go through a practice for your hands. Perhaps you'll then learn not to be so forgetful."

Denya reluctantly went over and removed what seemed like an endless supply of throwing daggers, flicking them out of their hiding places with such perfected ease one could not see where they were hidden. When she was done she gave Auron a look. He nodded and she rolled her eyes, reaching behind her and under her tunic, pulling out the twin blades she had used against the cat-creature. She repeated the motion, pulling out a long object wrapped in black cloth and tied securely around one end with a silver cord, the ends bound by a matching bead. She handed Auron the object carefully, who accepted it with equal carefulness, showing he would not damage it. She then huffed, marching back over to Anex, who was standing in a ready position, hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. They levelly met each other's eyes, their breathing slowing, becoming low and even.

"Begin!" Auron said in a loud voice.

Anex raced ahead, his blade flashing out of its sheath. Denya braced her feet apart, raising her arms parallel to each other by her face. At the last second, she clashed her arms together, a spark of light igniting. From her wrists extended a pair of metal bracers that covered her bracelets and arms, stopping just before her elbow. She parried Anex's thrust with one of her arms, snapping the other out to hit his chest. He sidestepped it, retracting his blade and jumping into the air. He flipped, his sword aimed for Denya's skull. Denya hunched down, springing up and meeting him as he descended, using her bracer-covered arms to clash with his sword and pushed him away.

"What is the point of that?" Caled asked Aurora, who was getting a fire started. She and Legolas were sitting off to the side, watching the fight with interest. Caled, though, was keeping her distance from Legolas and avoided looking at him. When he tried to talk to her, she would direct a question to Aurora or Dias. Darin and Tan had gone with Clad to hunt and Rali was watching the fight along with Auron.

"As Anex said," Aurora replied, poking the small fire with a stick as Dias added a bigger piece of wood, "they're practicing their skills so they do not slack off." Knowing that more questions would come she continued and explained a bit more. "Depending on who Auron selects, the pair fight to hone the skills of the first one named. Since he called Denya first, she must make sure the objective--or what needs to be tested--is met."

"Why even bother to test the skill?" Legolas asked, looking at Caled out of the corner of his eye. She was occupying herself by stroking and whispering to Mornie, who was still sleeping off the medicine Aurora had given him, so she did not see the look.

Aurora, however, did not miss it. She knitted her brow, thinking about something, as she said, "In these times, you never know when you will be attacked. Being prepared is what's kept us alive this long. Yet since all of us are different—by way of our fighting skills—it would be pointless to try to instruct each other. So, we spar instead."

Aurora paused, pulling a bracelet from her wrist. She uttered a quick chant and it suddenly changed into a sizable cauldron. She moved it to the side of the fire, then continued, "When one of us fight, we each have our own personal objective, which changes depending on who we're fighting." She motioned to the battling duo. "Right now Denya's objective is to defend herself against Anex's attacks while trying to get something off his person. She benefits from this by learning where she needs to grow in defense as well as seeing how her pick-pocketing skills are. If Anex had been called first, he would be seeing where the weak points are in his offense and attacks while learning how to see the subtle movements Denya makes as she tries to steal something. This helps in predicting how his opponents would move."

"Everyone benefits from fighting each other," Dias picked up, "because each has a special area they can help the others improve on. As Aurora said, Denya is predicting movements and Anex is defensive strategies, but close/hand-to-hand combat is Denya as well. I'm for magic defense since I'm a sorcerer. Aurora is evasiveness. Clad is offensive strategies. Tan is speed and detecting an enemy. Rali is strength. Darin is endurance. Auron usually does whatever one does for the others; if he and Anex fought he would assume Anex's role."

"Jack of all trades, isn't he?" Caled said.

"Yes," Aurora agreed, smiling proudly. "Jack of all trades, yet master of only one. His skill lies in perception, and that enables him to excel so much in other areas." She frowned, looking off in the direction the three had gone to hunt. "I hope they find something good, I'm starved."

Dias smiled at her comment, shaking his head.

Anex and Denya clashed sword to bracers for a final time then pushed against each other, landing neatly apart. Auron smirked, saying, "Good, Denya. That was better than I had expected."

Denya grinned, swinging around a small pouch on her finger. Anex tried to look furious, but his face soon broke into a grin as well. "As ever, you amaze me," he said, sheathing his sword. "And as ever I see that I need to keep my valuables in better locations."

Denya shrugged, tossing the pouch back to him. "I won't say it was easy--that'd be a lie--but you're getting simple to guess." She sighed, making a face, muttering, "Getting a bit predictable too."

Anex caught the pouch, saying, "I shall try to work on it."

Denya chuckled, "You'd better!"

As soon as she spoke those words, Legolas felt something in his mind break, like a dam under pressure. The rush sent him reeling, grabbing his head as he tried to stop from falling over and pressing his other hand against the ground.

Aurora noticed his movements. "Legolas? What's wrong?" she said, hurrying to him and steadying him with a hand on his shoulder as he almost fell again. Rather than helping him, her actions caused a severe reaction in his mind's eye. Images came flooding into his vision, blocking out reality for a few moments or longer, he could not tell.

_:a dagger that was familiar to him landing in the ground in front of him, someone walking out of the shadows: _

"...for good? You'd better..."

:deep forest, light almost nonexistent, the crouched form of a Reaper before him and the others, it was shaking, large, white eyes looking nervously at the one beside him in fear:

"...she sent me. To seek Kaha'Dak..."

:a scream pierced the air, he rushed to the sound as fear clenched at his heart, parting the underbrush to see what was wrong:

"...it! You're gonna die..."

:night, a secluded place in the woods, a girl standing in front of him, cloak open to reveal herself to him, a seductive smile on her face:

"...to offer this? I'm willing..."

:he was lying on the floor, unable to move, a ways away he could see Caled's broken body--no breathe came from her--a shadowy figure knelt in front of him, hand cupping his head in a gesture of mock tenderness that was given away from the spite in the figure's voice:

"...the pain? You will soon see..."

"Legolas!"

A hand connected with his face, snapping him out back into reality. Aurora looked into his eyes, searching them as she said, "Are you all right?"

"Y-Yes," he said, his senses becoming normal once again. "I believe so." The rest had seen that he had suddenly spaced out as if in a trance and gathered around. Auron locked eyes with Dias, frowning in question. Dias nodded slightly in reply, a grim expression on his face.

"Are you sure?" Rali asked, studying the Elven Prince. "You were like that for quite a while?"

"I'm fine," Legolas insisted, standing to show his point. Though he did feel all right, a restless feeling from the visions formed in him. He turned, going off into the woods as he said over his shoulder, "I'm going for a walk. I'll be back soon." He quickly left just as Denya started to follow him.

"I'll come too!" Denya shouted.

Caled's eye twitched again. _Hmm, to kill or not to kill? That is the question,_ she mused to herself.

"Denya! Head's up!" Aurora called, throwing something at her.

Denya barely had time to see that a small, brown bag tied with thin rope at the top was sailing towards her. Denya's face turned white and she gasped, jumping and rolling to the side just as the bag flew harmlessly into the bushes where she had been about to go through. She glared at Aurora, shouting, "Are you insane!"

"Are you?" she replied, returning the glare. "Leave him alone!"

"Make me!"

"Next," Auron said, returning to his place, "Denya, Rali. You may now use your weapons, Denya."

---

Legolas looked back to make sure he could see the others. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. What he had just seen was so much like what Meryl had shown him, he knew it was no coincidence. It appeared that she had given more visions to him, but how he had only just now seen those he did not know.

"Why me?" he said, looking up at the sky that peeked through the limbs of the trees. "Why did she have to show me this? Why was it so important?"

A rustling sound from far off to his left caught his attention. He tensed, hand going for one of his blades at his side. He had left his bow and arrows with his pack so that was all he had to defend himself if whatever it was attacked him. Silently, he began to move closer to it as it continued to move, creeping closer to him at a slowing rate. Legolas pressed his back against the trunk of a tree, that large plant being the only thing that now separated him from whatever it was. Taking a breath to steady himself, he swung around, unsheathing his blades and holding them in an aggressive position. What he saw caused his mind to halt.

Lying on the grass before him in a growing pool of blood, was a semi-conscious young man, possibly not even twenty summers. His clothes told that he was a farmer and they were torn as if something had grabbed hold and tried to restrain him. He was on his side, revealing several injuries that included a broken arm and by his shallow breathing a few broken ribs as well. Legolas could not see the full extent of his injuries, but he could make out a few deep wounds on his stomach that he guessed the blood was coming from.

Slowly so he would not alarm him, Legolas approached the young man, kneeling beside him. Before he could do or say anything, the young man spoke. His voice was strained and shallow like his breathing as he said, "The children...the children...help...them..." His eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped into unconsciousness.

It was quite obvious that the young man needed medical attention. Remembering Aurora having said she was an expert in medicine, he shouted back towards them, "Everyone! Come quickly!" Since nearly everyone was at least Half-Elf, he knew they would be there in no time. Just as he thought, they soon arrived. He was too preoccupied with the young man, however, to notice that it was Caled that first reached them well ahead of the others.

When Aurora set eyes on him, she showed no shock or horror. Instead, she went over to him and ripped the front of his tunic to examine the extent of his wounds without question or even pausing. She grimaced only slightly upon seeing the deep gashes cut into his abdomen. She began to shout orders. "Denya!" she started, "get back there and set up the supplies for disinfecting and sewing wounds as well as pain killers! I've got to close those cuts on his stomach or he'll die! The other wounds are minor so they can wait until he's safe!"

"Right!" Denya nodded, rushing back.

"Anex: find a stream, river, lake--whatever, it doesn't matter--get a large amount of water!"

"On it!"

"Rali: carry him! Careful so he doesn't lose even more blood!" That said, she stood and followed Denya, disappearing.

Rali did so, running at a slower pace. When he got back to the campsite, Auron had already spread out a blanket for him to lie on. Aurora was going over the items Denya had pulled out of her pack, and was already putting the last touches on some mixture in a bowl. "He's needs to swallow this so he'll stay unconscious," she said, mostly to herself it seemed like. Denya carefully propped the man's head up on a rolled up sheet, holding his mouth open gently. "Okay, here we go." Aurora began to slowly pour the mixture into his mouth, Denya tilting his head to make him swallow. "Which pain killer type did you set out?" Aurora asked, glancing at Denya skeptically.

Denya bit her lip, second-guessing her decision. "Type delta," she said. "Wrong one?"

Aurora shook her head. "That's fine. All right, now help me clear up some of this blood until Anex gets back. Dias!" She snapped, turning to face him. "Keep that fire going! Chunk another fireball into it!"

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied, doing as she 'asked'.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Legolas asked, motioning to himself and Caled.

"Not unless you what to be injured as well," Auron responded, leaning against a nearby tree. "It's best to leave Aurora alone when she's like this unless she tells you to do something. Trust me, you don't want to interrupt her."

Caled and Legolas were at a loss at what else to do, so they sat back and watched. Anex soon returned and set the water on the fire. When it had boiled, Aurora tended to the young man's wounds with lightening fast speed. Though she was very quick, it was obvious she knew what she was doing. She concentrated on his abdominal wounds since they were the most severe, cleaning them out, packing the larger ones with healing herbs and sewing up the smaller ones.

Not long after she had started, Darin appeared, Tan right behind him. Both had a large deer slung over their shoulder. Neither said anything about the young man, instead meeting Auron's eyes with serious, grave faces. He straightened, saying, "What happened?"

Darin spoke first. "About the time we took down these deer, we ran into some people. They insisted we bring them here."

Tan stepped up, his eyes on Denya. "They said they needed to speak with her."

"We can speak for ourselves, Lord Tan," a voice sounded. Clad appeared, followed by two figures.

They were Elven men. Both were identical--matching jet-black hair and stormy gray eyes. One had his gaze focused solely on Denya while the other looked over the whole group, nodding his head in greeting. Denya soon felt his gaze on her and raised her head. When she saw who they were, her entire body froze. Her eyes widened in shock as she stiffly stood, as if disbelieving what she was seeing. Then they quickly became blank. She inclined her head and said blankly, "It's been a while, Elrohir, Elladan."

The twin sons of Elrond nodded in agreement. Elladan's eyes never left Denya's. A silent message passed between them. Denya snorted, jerking her head to the side. "I'll be back," she told the others, beginning to walk in the direction she had motioned to, Elladan right behind her.

They walked and walked until they were a ways away from the group. Certain that they were out of earshot, Denya faced Elladan, her eyes still cold. "**_What is it?_**" she demanded in Elvish. "**_I know full well that you and Elrohir have given up on tracking me down. Why are you here?_**"

"**_Denya,_**" Elladan said, raising his hands in front of him, "**_calm down. We're here to warn you._**"

"**_Warn me?_**" Denya's appearance significantly softened, icy exterior melting into question. "**_About what?_**"

"**_For the past few months since the end of the War,_**" Elladan began, "**_Elrohir and I have been traveling. During these travels, we've gathered information about...the Reapers,_**" he spoke the word slowly, waiting for her reaction. The glow in her eyes began to show, but it was quickly extinguished.

"**_What about them?_**" Denya said in a level tone.

Elladan hesitated, wondering how to word this correctly. Coming to the conclusion there was no other way, he blurted, "**_Denya, they've been involved since the beginning. Everything that has brought you and the others together had a Reaper involved._**"

"**_Wait!_**" Denya interrupted, those two sentences overwhelming her. "**_What do you mean?_**"

"**_It's as if they planned it,_**" Elladan tried to explain. "**_Elrohir and I have found that in every case, a Reaper was somehow involved. Mostly they were disguised, but in some they weren't._**"

"**_All of them?_**" Denya questioned, doubting that.

"**_Yes,_**" Elladan said nodding. "**_The merchant that caught Lord Tan, the leader of the Councils with Lord Auron and Lady Aurora, the Sword Master and the guards with Lord Anex, the lords as well as the nobles with Lord Darin and how they affect King Thranduil's decision--they were all Reapers. But they openly attacked you, Lord Dias, Clad, and that Half-Dwarf and they---_**" He stopped, catching his mistake too late.

With her great speed and swift hands, Denya had him pinned against the nearest tree, one hand grasping his neck and the other holding a dagger above his heart. Her eyes were hardened and glowed, her mouth pulled back into a snarl.

"**_Do I need to remind you, Elladan,_**" Denya hissed, "**_that I will not tolerate that behavior from you? I would rather kill you than let that poison take root in your soul._**" Denya let go of his neck, stepping backwards so the dagger would cause no harm unless she meant it to. "**_Dwarves are not what they used to be, nor are the Berserkers. Treating them like dirt is what started this,_**" she motioned to herself, "**_don't ever forget that._**" She shook her head, swiftly moving past him.

Elladan paused before saying, "**_How long will you keep wearing black?_**"

Denya stopped and turned around, eyes holding no emotion, "**_Until it's over,_**" she replied, her voice small and quiet.

Elladan sighed. "**_Denya, we've all been through this too many times; when will it end? When will you come back to Rivendell with us?_**"

"**_The second question is easy to answer,_**" Denya replied, crossing her arms and tilting her head to one side. "**_I will never set foot on ground within Rivendell again. As for the first..._**" She trailed off, adverting her eyes.

"**_How many years has it been since that day?_**" Elladan asked, a remorseful note in his voice. "**_It's been nearly five centuries and yet you're still like this._**"

"**_Time does not matter,_**" Denya said softly, her eyes misting as well.

"**_Denya,_**" Elladan said firmly, taking her by the shoulders and making her look him in the eye, "**_you know better than anyone that it affected me as much as it did you. Why can't you put it behind you? Give up this stupid chase and come back. We can all live life like we used to._**"

"**_You're wrong,_**" Denya said firmly, stepping back from him. "**_It's not a stupid chase. I made a vow that day I left Rivendell, Elladan. How do you expect me to 'live life like I used to'?_**" She uttered a short, rueful laugh. "**_Life? That has no meaning to me anymore. I died that day. Don't you remember?_**"

"**_I remember that I lost two people dear to my heart that day,_**" Elladan said. His eyes misted but he blinked the tears away.

Denya looked away from Elladan, unable to look him in the eye as she said, her voice soft, brittle, "**_Once I kill him, there will be nothing that will keep me in this world. Nothing that will be my drive during battle. Nothing to live for once this is over._**" She stared at the sky through the trees, whispering, "**_When it's over, I will be over. That's all there is to it, Elladan._**" Without another word, she started on the way back to the others.

"**_I hope you're wrong,_**" Elladan said to her retreating back. "**_I hope you find something worth living for before then._**"

---

When they returned, they found Elrohir and Auron talking about the Reaper situation as well. Aurora announced that the young man was fine and that he would wake up soon. Elladan and Elrohir left soon after that, bidding them all a safe journey.

"Is he really gonna be okay?" Denya asked Aurora, sitting down near the unconscious young man.

"He's as fine as I can tell right now," she replied, making a potion. "We shouldn't move him until he wakes up, yet I think he has a few more injuries on his back." She frowned. "Denya, are you sure it was type delta painkiller you used?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because I found a type beta container empty," she said, holding out a bottle. "Was this the one you used?" Denya's silence was answer enough. "Don't worry, it won't kill him," she assured her. "He just won't be able to feel any pain whatsoever for a while, not even a tooth ache."

"Can you tell what happened to him?" Tan asked.

Aurora shrugged. "Just that he was attacked by something."

"He might have been in a raid," Auron said, studying the young man. "He's a farmer, or else comes from a village of ones. The ends of his clothes are slightly burned...might have been in a fire." He sat back. "We'll see when he comes too."

"When will that be?" Denya huffed, working on her woodblock.

"Right about...now," Aurora announced.

Sure enough, the young man stirred. His eyes slowly opened, blinking against the bright light of the sun. He tried to sit up, but Aurora stopped him, saying, "You better slow down or the stitches won't hold."

He stared at her, shocked. "Wh-where am I?" he said, coming up at a slower pace. "Who are you?" he said once he saw everyone else gathering around him.

"We are the ones that found you," Auron spoke, catching the young man's attention. "We're also the ones that gave you medical aid," he motioned to Aurora.

The young man looked down, gasping softly when he saw the wounds. He cautiously laid a hand on his stomach. He looked at Aurora, confused, "Why don't I feel any pain?"

"I gave you some medicine so that you won't," she said. "You have some pretty serious injuries that still need tending to, though. I just wanted to wait until you were stable before I mended them." She then set to work on his broken arm.

"What is your name?" Auron asked the young man.

"Kain," he replied, staring in surprise at his arm as Aurora reset the bone back in place.

"Can you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?"

Kain was silent, thinking. When he spoke, it was in a tight, worried voice. "Five days ago my village was attacked," he began. "It was so sudden, we could not stand a chance. There seemed to be no end to the Orcs, they came form everywhere all at once. They killed most of the older men that were able to fight, and rounded up everyone under the years of twenty." He paused drawing a shaky breath. "I was one of them. They herded us like cattle, making all of us march through the woods for three straight days, the infants were tossed into a cart that the oldest ones had to pull. We hardly ever stopped. It was by luck I was able to break away, but...some...thing tracked me down. I was sure it would kill me, but it just attacked then left me alone. I continued on, but I grew weak and I collapsed. Next thing I knew, an Elf found me." He ended, looking up at Legolas with an expression of gratitude.

"Do you know anything about where the Orcs are?" Auron asked.

Kain shook his head. "No." He bit his lip, then suddenly blurted out, "You must help me find them. The children will all be killed it we don't do something--"

"Absolutely not."

Everyone turned to Denya, standing with arms crossed and a set look on her face. "We are not going to waste our time on this," she said,rolling her eyes.

"But you just can't leave them! They will be killed!" Kain insisted.

"So?" she said with a snarl. "Let 'em. Why should we stick our necks out for a bunch of little brats anyway? Damn annoying."

"But--"

"By the Valar," Aurora gasped. During the argument, she had started to wrap Kain's chest, taking off what was left of his shirt to do so. She was now gaping at his back. "A-Auron," she stammered. "Get over here!"

He went to her side to see what it was. Kain's back was covered in slashes of many shapes and sizes, all cut deep into the flesh.

"Why didn't you tell us, Kain?" Denya exclaimed when she saw them.

"He can't feel them, idiot!" Aurora snapped. "Remember?"

Auron knelt down and examined the cuts. "Strange," he muttered.

"What? What is it?" Kain said, nervous since no one was tending to the wounds.

"These cuts," Auron said, "they're strange. The depth in random, some deep and some shallow. And they are far too precise to have been made by an Orc blade."

Denya frowned, her eyes narrowing as she tried to get a closer look. "Funny," she murmured, "this look familiar." Suddenly, she jerked, then pushed Auron out of the way so she could look at them closer. "They weren't made by a blade," she said at length. "They were made by claws. But they aren't as random as they seem. There's a pattern to it."

"You mean someone carved him up like this on purpose?" Caled asked, her face turning a shade of green at the thought.

Denya started to say she was not sure, but stopped, her eyes catching something. She raised a hand and traced one of the cuts. "It's writing," she breathed. "It--it's a message."

"From who?" Legolas said.

Denya's eyes hardened, narrowing as she snarled, "It's from them..."

The Reapers.

----------


	11. Chapter XI: Forging and Questions

Chapter Eleven - Forging and Questions

"So, are we doing it?" Tan asked, voicing the question that was in everyone's mind.

Once Denya had realized the gashes on Kain's back was indeed a message from the Reapers she had interrogated him for every bit of knowledge he had about the Orcs that had captured him as well as the way they attacked his village. In fact, she was still asking questions when Tan spoke.

"If Denya finds a reason to do as Kain asks," Aurora said, an unreadable expression on her face, "she will do it."

"But she was so against it," Caled said, confused. "I mean, she was pretty much saying, 'let the kids die'."

"Is the fact that Reapers are involved enough to change Denya's mind about this?" Legolas asked when no one responded to Caled. They had long since learned that when they refused to answer a question, they never would.

"Denya and Reapers have never mixed well in the past," Darin said, shrugging. "When they're involved, there's no telling what she'll do."

"Why is that?"

The Guild suddenly became silent, some exchanging nervous glances. They seemed to be asking each other with their eyes 'Do we tell them?'. Finally, Auron said, "Denya...has a deep history with the Reapers." He let out a tired breath. "She's been hunting them for about four or five centuries. She's become an expert. There is no telling what she will do," he repeated, agreeing with Darin.

"Simple," Denya's voice sounded. She was standing now; face set in a determined grimace. "We go and kill them all. No exceptions."

"What can you tell?" Anex asked.

"The Orcs were a cover-up," she said, already shrugging on her pack while the others began to gather their belongings as well. "The Reapers are the ones behind it. Not only that, the one who sent the message was kind enough to give us the direction and name of the village they attacked as well as who can tell us how to find them." She spoke in a sarcastic tone, walking in the direction they had first found Kain.

Clad stiffly turned his head, looking at her. "Ke'Dab, _le_?" he said, the name spat out like poison from his mouth.

Legolas stiffened, surprised that in such a short time Clad's mood had so drastically changed. Though for the most part silent, Clad never gave off any feeling that Legolas could feel except one: apathy. Clad was all ways calm, not caring about anything. But now, such an immense surge of emotion radiated from him that it made the Elf scared. Berserkers were known for their violent tempers and deathly strength when infuriated. They were a callous, barbaric race that had become all but extinct, a few settlements here and there away from civilization. Even so, they were a force to be reckoned with, even if they were not enraged.

Denya nodded. "It was Ke'Dab all right," she said through a snarl. "You can never mistake his work."

A low, animal growl came from Clad, snapping his head in the way they were headed. He uttered dark words in his own tongue that ran together, curses no doubt.

Denya did not reply yet nodded in agreement to whatever he had said.

"Can you walk?" Legolas asked Kain.

"I---I think so," he replied, trying to stand up. He faltered, Rali catching him just in time. "I guess not," he admitted sheepishly.

"You shouldn't try to walk for a few days," Aurora said. "Just let Rali carry you until we reach your village." She started to fall in step behind Denya, but stopped, noticing Caled was taking her time and still avoiding Legolas whenever he tried to talk to her or even just look at her. Aurora frowned. Something about the way Caled was acting was strange in a way. Aurora slowed her pace, letting the others get ahead of her until she and Caled were the only ones besides Clad remaining. Caled noticed and started walking.

"You feeling alright, Caled?" Aurora asked.

"Hm? Oh, yes. Fine," she said, not directly meeting the Half-Elf's eyes.

Aurora of course knew she was lying. "Why are you so mad at Legolas? You're acting as if you're his jealous lover or something," she said rather bluntly, crossing her arms within her large sleeves.

Surprise at the question caused Caled to nearly fall on her face. She gave Aurora a look reserved for one who had just sprouted two additional heads. "EXCUSE ME?" she shrieked, causing Aurora as well as the others further up ahead to wince.

"Calm down!" Aurora said, rubbing her ears in an attempt to stop the ringing. "I don't believe it, I just said it to get your attention!" She looked her straight in the eye and said, "Whatever the reason you have for your actions, I won't pry into them. I will just say this: Legolas is trying to apologize for whatever he did." She glanced ahead, seeing Legolas looking back at Caled. She smiled, saying to Caled, "Don't let that one slip away. He's a fine catch." She skipped ahead, humming a tune to herself. Once she was beside Denya, she murmured under her breath, "You might want to give up on Legolas."

"What for?" Denya said, frowning.

Aurora looked over her shoulder at Legolas before saying, "Haven't you seen him looking at Caled?"

"What about it?"

"Denya," she said in a firm voice, "his eyes were true blue."

"What are you talking about, Aurora? Of course they're---" She stopped in mid-sentence, the meaning behind Aurora's words dawning on her. She looked at Aurora as if she did not believe her. Aurora nodded. "You're certain?" she pressed.

"I should know, Denya," Aurora said with a smile.

"In that case..." Without giving Aurora any warning, Denya jumped, landing beside Legolas and glomping onto his arm as she had been doing.

Aurora gaped, mouth hung open in shock, before she growled in frustration and stomped over to Denya, shouting furiously about Denya being denser than an Orc.

---

Just on the outskirts of Kain's village, Auron ordered them to stop.

"What for?" Legolas asked, trying to breathe while Denya had a firm grip around his neck.

"We need to prepare," Denya answered, not letting go. "I mean, think about it: what would any normal village do if we--five Elves, two Half-Men, one Half-Berserker, one Half-Dwarf, and one human--came waltzing in there, saying we're looking for the bunch that just attacked them?"

"They would try to kill us," Darin answered, reaching into his pack and retrieving a plain, silver bracelet.

"So what do we do?" Caled asked.

Darin gave her a grin, slipping on the bracelet and saying, "On."

Suddenly his body shimmered and in his place stood a young man with short black hair and brown eyes.

"We put on our disguises, of course!" Denya said, twirling a bracelet between her fingers. "I used magic-smithing to make these bracelets that can alter people's vision of us as well as how they hear our voices, making us appear as whatever we want to be. We usually disguise ourselves as humans. Everyone else has one, but I haven't made one for you and Leafy yet." She shrugged, "Oh, well! You'll just have to do. On." Her disguise was not much different, just longer hair with no braids and of course her ears were human.

The others did so as well, mostly maintaining their normal appearance as humans and slightly altering their voice pitches. The only notable changes were in Auron and Aurora's disguise. Their hair color turned from brown and red-blonde to straight dark brown, Auron's eyes to blue and Aurora's to green. Legolas noticed that despite his disguise, Darin kept his cloak drawn around him, hood partially covering his face. Before they continued, Auron stressed to Kain not to let anyone know of their true Race less problems occur. Kain agreed.

Upon entering the village, it was obvious that it had suffered a tremendous blow. The majority of the buildings were either demolished or barely standing. Smoke, ashes, and soot told a large fire that had only recently been put out. The remaining villagers went back and forth, repairing the damage that they could. Just as Kain had said, there were no children or many able-bodied men that they could see.

"Worse than I thought it would be," Tan said, eyes looking over the faces of those who looked at them curiously.

One of the villagers, an elderly man with a bloodied bandage wrapped around his head, stopped in his work, staring at them. He gasped, "Kain!" before running to them.

"Father!" Kain said, recognizing him.

"Kain, are you all right?" he said. "How did you escape? Who are these people?"

"They found me after I fled from the Orcs and healed me," Kain answered.

Auron stepped forward, bowing to the old man and saying, "Good sir, my comrades and I have heard of your village's troubles and are here to offer any services we can to you. Is there anyone we can see to discuss this?"

Kain's father gave Auron a look over, a puzzled expression on his face; it was almost as if he recognized him. "Yes," he said. "The village leader managed to escape death and survive with little injury, as well as most of the Council. I will take you to them now."

---

After making sure Kain was getting the proper medical aid of the village doctor, his father--whose name was Matthew--brought the Guild, Legolas, and Caled to the village leaders. The leaders, he said, were currently in debate about what they should do, so they would be in the meetinghouse.

They were stopped at the entrance to the large building by two guards. "Hold," said one. "State your name and business."

"I am Matthew," he replied, "and I have brought travelers who wish to aid us."

The guards exchanged glances, deciding whether or not to let them through, before they stepped back, opening the doors. The doors led into a long hallway, several doors lining the sides and a pair of huge double doors at the end. Walking swiftly, Matthew went to the double doors, saying in a low tone, "Do not speak out just yet. Allow me to introduce you and only then speak."

Behind his back, Denya and Darin exchanged looks, rolling their eyes. Anex smirked knowingly.

The room was very large, a long table in the center with chairs seated all around it. Windows allowed the sunlight in and a huge stone fireplace was in the back corner, currently unlit. Some of the chairs were filled, all men who had bandages of some sort on their body. One man stood when they entered, a startled expression on his face. "Matthew?" he spoke. This man was fairly young compared to the ones they had seen in the village. His injuries only consisted of a wrapped arm and chest. From what they could see through the tattered holes in his tunic, it covered the majority of his chest area.

"Yes, Lord Micha," the old man replied, bowing at the waist. "I have brought with me travelers wh--"

Before he could finish, Auron stepped in front as he said, "We have heard of the recent trouble you've had with the Orcs and have come to find the kidnapped children and return them safely."

Micha blinked, lightly stunned at Auron's boldness. Then, to the surprise of everyone else, he began to laugh. "I'm sorry," he said once he calmed down, still chuckling. "It's that we were just discussing finding outside help in this situation and then you walk in here as if answers to our prayers! Please, come in. Sit," he motioned to the table.

After dismissing Matthew and the others had sat down, Micha cleared his throat and said, "Before we do anything else, would you mind introducing yourselves?" One by one, they went around the table doing so. "Now, how much do you know of this situation?"

"More than some people," Auron replied.

Micha frowned. "Explain."

Glancing at the other men from the village in the room, Auron said in a level tone, "We know that the Orcs were a cover. There was another party involved."

Micha's expression went from confused to shock. Hurriedly, he ordered everyone but the Guild, Legolas, and Caled to leave. As soon as they were alone, Micha spoke in a tensed voice, saying, "I apologize, but they are not aware of any other involvement." He shook his head. "I thought I was the only one who knew."

"I wouldn't doubt if you were the only one from the village," Denya said, leaning back in her chair and propping her feet up on the table. "The only reason we know is because they sent us a message."

"A-A message?" he repeated, an odd look on his face. "To you? Wh-What did it say?"

Denya raised an eyebrow in question to his sudden stutter, but went on to say, "The shortest way of saying it is 'Come and get me. I'll be waiting.' I and many of the others here," she motioned to everyone, "have had several dealing with the Reapers. They know us and this is not the first time something like this has happened."

"Sir Micha," Anex said, "it is my opinion that you leave this to us. We know what we're doing," he insisted when the man was about to protest.

"We've done this more times before than we can count," Rali added.

Reluctantly, Micha nodded. "I can see that you speak the truth," he said at length. "I will grant you your request."

"Thank you," Auron said, rising from his seat, the others following. "We will begin as soon as we have prepared."

"Lord Micha?" Aurora said. "Your wounds? Are they mended?"

"Yes," Micha said in a rushed tone. "Th-they are fine."

"Do you want me to look at them?" she asked, rising to make her way to him. "I have so--"

"NO!" Micha shouted suddenly, a strange look flashing across his face. Everyone jerked in surprise. He regained his composure, saying in a strained voice, "No. No, thank you. I'm fine. Besides, you have business you need to tend to. I wish you all good luck."

---

"You cannot come out of there and say that was not weird," Rali stated as they exited the meetinghouse's vicinity, heading back into the village.

"Yes, it definitely was," Caled agreed. "Anyway, what do we do now?"

"First thing's first," Denya said, "we get a little information. Then we get suited up for a fight." She grinned. "We know just the place," she said with a jerk of her thumb to Aurora.

Aurora blinked, "You don't mean..."

"Yes."

"He's here?" the half-Elf gasped.

"Who?" Legolas asked.

"You'll see," Denya said.

She lead them to the outskirts of the village where, hidden in the forest, was a two-leveled house. The smell of fire, metal, and wood hung in the air as they got closer. Denya knocked on the door twice, paused, four times, another pause, then once. The door opened. Without giving them much warning, Denya tackled the person, for lack of better words. She sent them both rolling back into the house; the door almost slamming shut. Rali caught it and held it open as they all went in.

"Should...we do something about this?" Caled said, her face twisting in a combined look of laughter and astonishment at what she saw on the floor of the house.

Denya was in the middle of what looked like a fist fight with a man nearly twice her size. Had it not been for the laughter emitting from the two, one would think they would seriously hurt each other. They were shouting at each other with each throw of a punch.

"Long time no see!"

"What are you doin' here?"

"What about you? When did you move in?"

"Ages! You're behind, girlie!"

"Oh, yeah? Take this!"

"Denya, Bowman," Auron said, clearing his throat. The two immediately froze in their place, Denya with her fist in the man's jaw, him with his own fist in her stomach. "Please, continue this when we have the time to spare."

"Right, right," Bowman said, standing up. Bowman was lithe for his height, though his arms and hands looked strong. His eyes were like pools of deep sapphire that could pierce into one's own with exceptional depth. His hair was long, all the way down to his knees, and was held up on the back of his head with a metal clasp with the exception of two chunks that were hanging in front of his ears. Legolas and Caled could not help but stare at his hair, for it was bright green at the tips yet it gradually faded into deep blue at the roots. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up. Five days, eh?" He laughed, "Don't get too slow, now!"

Denya clocked him over the head. "Not our fault!"

He winced, rubbing his head. "So you say!"

"Anyway," Auron interrupted, "how long before we can move out?"

Bowman started to answer but stopped, noticing Legolas and Caled for the first time. He looked at Denya and Aurora, making signs with his hands. An amused smile came on Aurora's face, responding with an another hand gesture. Denya scowled, making a gesture that caused Bowman to gape, then whack her over the head. "Sorry," he said, turning to Legolas and Caled. "I'm known as William around the village as well as its smith, but my real name is Bowman. I'm a contact for the Guild in the area as well as the one who makes most of their weapons." He stopped, looking back over the group. "Which reminds me, what do I need to do?"

"Mainly sharpening," Denya said. "But Tan broke one of his sai and needs a completely new one. And we need two sets of weapons for the newcomers. I'll help with them."

"Then you should be out before sunset if we start now," Bowman replied, motioning them inside his house.

Auron shook his head, saying, "We leave in the middle of the night. It would be best not to involve this village any more than it already is."

Bowman smirked, "You noticed too, eh?" He snorted. "Something's going on with Micha, and I don't like it. Anyway--" He stopped, frowning, then counted silently to himself the number of people in the room. "Wasn't there another one?" Caled was missing.

"I'll look for her," Aurora said, starting out the door. She stopped at the door when she saw Legolas about to say something--probably a suggestion that he go with her. "Nuh-uh," she said in a commanding tone, holding her hand out to stop him, "you are staying here, Legolas. Not only does Bowman need you to verify the condition of the weapon he'll make you, you need to know what to do when we fight them." That said, she left.

"Them who?" Legolas asked, after getting over the surprise of Aurora knowing what he was going to say.

"Reapers," Denya said, pushing open a door at the far end of the room. Heat immediately flowed through, as well as the smell of sulfur and metal. This room was huge; a square cut out of the middle of the high ceiling for the smoke to rise through. A furnace took up half of the back wall, a fire burning inside. Along the wall opposite of the furnace were cases of weapons of different shapes and kinds, all sizes. In most of the remaining space was various equipment that was used to make or repair weapons.

"What kind of weapon are you most comfortable using?" Bowman asked.

"Bow and arrow, but I also uselong knives," Legolas answered, eyes straying to the weapon cases in amazement.

Bowman thought for a second then said, "Knives would be best. Easier to kill with." He gave orders to Denya, specifying things like the metal she needed to use to make the pair of knives.

Bowman then asked the others for the weapons they needed for repair. Auron gave his sword, Tan a sai, Dias a short sword, and Darin handed over a pair of thick bands with vicious looking curved blades bonded to them--he said he attached them to the ends of his Bo, a staff that was longer than he was tall. What surprised Legolas was that the weapons were at first bracelets, which they held out and uttered unsealing spells on, turning them into their weapons. Easier than carrying around an extra set and the Reapers could never tell they were armed, the Guild said.

Bowman set to work at one of the benches, motioning for Legolas to sit in a chair by him so he could do as Aurora said. "Tell me," he said when Legolas as well as the others were seated, Denya at the furnace heating up some metal, "what is one way to kill a Reaper?"

"To destroy the eyes?" Legolas said.

Bowman nodded. "That's right. But that way only works if you're fighting one Reaper at a time or just a few. The place you're about to go to will be full of them. They aren't known for fighting fair and will attack in large numbers. There are two other ways of doing this. One is to be able to inflict a single wound to make the Reaper lose enough blood. If you don't, though, they'll heal instantly."

Legolas nodded, remembering the one he had cut in the side. "What is the other?"

"To strike with a magical weapon," Bowman said, pausing to concentrate on one area of the sword in his hands. "I'm sure by now you know of Denya's magic-smithing abilities?" At his nod, Bowman continued, "Well, I have the same. The weapons I'm talking about, however, are different: I infuse them with magic, all right, but it's undefined magic. The magic is there, but that's it. It has no limitations to what it can or cannot do. For some reason we haven't learned of yet, when a Reaper is struck with such a weapon, it will be as if they were any other being."

---

"Caled!" Aurora called, looking around as she walked behind the house. She cupped her hands around her mouth, yelling, "Caled-Veleg!"

"Here, Aurora," Caled said, stepping out of the bushes.

"There you are!" Aurora said in relief, coming to her. "Why did you leave?"

Caled looked at the ground, shrugging. "I don't know."

"Caled," Aurora said firmly, not believing her.

Caled sighed, "All right, all right. I...I just couldn't take being in that room. Not with all those...Elves." She spoke the name and shuddered, rubbing her arms as if she was suddenly cold.

Aurora frowned, then her eyes widened. "You mean...you could tell that Bowman was..." she let the question hang.

The grave, disgusted look on Caled's face was answer enough. "One more Elf running around me is more that I could take. I had to get out of there," she said again.

Aurora was silent, a question suddenly coming to her that she had never even conceived before then. She bit her lip then said slowly, "Caled? Do you hate Elves?"

As soon as she had spoken, Caled's body grew rigid, her face looking the same as that of a frightened child, her limbs trembling. For a while, she did not say anything. When she did, it was in a small, shaking voice.

"I beg you not to make me answer that question. At least not yet. One day, I might be ready to answer it. But not now. Please."

---

"How do they feel?"

Legolas twirled the twin blades in his hands, marveling at their fine craftsmanship and quality so he did not hear Bowman's question.

The smith just grinned as if he won a battle. "I can tell by the look on your face that they're perfect!"

"Perfect?" Legolas echoed, flipping blades. "They're better than that! How could you have ever made such fine weapons in such a short time?"

Bowman smirked and laughed, but it was only a half-hearted gesture. He sat back in his chair, a faraway expression on his face. "These times call for swift weapon builders." Legolas, sensing the change in his attitude, sheathed the blades at his side, listening. Bowman sadly shook his head, "Though I wish it could be through other means, I'm glad my work is being used to stop the Reapers and the chaos they leave in their wake. Maybe...maybe one day this will surely be a peaceful land..."

"One day, Bowman," Denya agreed. "One day. In the meantime we--Legolas? What's wrong?" she gasped, standing from her seat so suddenly her chair knocked over.

It was in vain, because the Elf Prince could not hear her or the others as once again, a vision took control of his mind. This one, however, was far more powerful than the others combined and sent him to his knees, grasping his head in pain.

_:It was cold, the gray clouds foretelling a light rain soon to come. The land before him consisted of hills and great trees, sounds of the children playing in directional sight as well as the market in the distance. For some reason, that place felt so...safe. It was as if this place was the only one of its kind, secure and somewhat secluded from the woes of the world around it. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease. Even the pain from his broken arm seemed to be dulled. _

Someone was standing beside him, a few feet shorter than he was. He was watching the children as well, a wistful smile on his face. His voice was same as he said, "This is probably the only piece of Middle-Earth that has returned to normal. Many say that this is surely the most peaceful land...the only one left they say..."

"We're fighting to change that," Legolas heard himself say. "As soon as we reach the Harnen it will be over. We will stop Zage once and for all. Do not worry for tomorrow, leave that to us.":

Legolas was violently jerked out of the vision, gasping for breath. All it took was one look at him, and the Guild knew he was all right, though a little shaken up. He ran a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth. "Curse it all!" he snarled in frustration. "Why won't they stop!"

Auron looked up, meeting Dias' eyes with a narrowed gaze. Dias nodded, then said to Legolas, "Come with me." He helped him up and led him out another door. He went through different rooms and doors until they came upon a set of stairs, which he pulled Legolas up. The stairs led up to a small platform on the roof.

The sun was just beginning to set at this time, casting the forest and village in red and orange shadows. Dias sat on the roof's edge, his eyes looking off to the side. He chuckled, motioning that way and saying, "Lothlorien is that way, you know?" His voice was tinged with sadness, and a bit of regret, Legolas noticed.

"Yes," Legolas said, wondering what the point of bringing him up here was.

Again, Dias chuckled. "Forgive me, I cannot help but think of that wondrous land when the sun sets. I brought you here for another reason entirely." Growing serious he turned to Legolas and said, "I wish to explain the reason behind the visions you're receiving."

Legolas had all his attention turned to the white-haired Elf's words as he sat down beside Dias. "How could you tell?" he asked.

"Because both times I witnessed it for you, I saw the spell's aura. Every spell," he explained, seeing the slightly puzzled expression on Legolas' face, "gives off an invisible aura when it's in effect. I've been taught to make them visible to my eyes when they're present. Did Meryl give you these visions?"

"The fortune teller?" Legolas said. "I believe so." He quickly recounted his meeting with the now deceased woman, yet he did not say what she had shown him.

Dias nodded, his face becoming sympathetic. "A fair warning, Legolas: these visions will only be seen when something around you triggers the spell. This means you will never be able to control when you see the vision or what you will see."

"You speak as if you made the spell," Legolas said, a light accusing in his words.

The corner of Dias' mouth quirked in a half-smile. "I helped Meryl devise it, yes. She placed some in my own head," he said, tapping his temple with two fingers, "so I know what happens when they're triggered."

Legolas nodded, turning his gaze to the tree line before them. Movement caught his eye and he soon saw Caled and Aurora through the trees a ways into the forest. His face softened, smiling softly as he watched her while she conversed with Aurora. Something Aurora said made Caled gape, then she burst out laughing. Her laugh was like music to the Wood-Elf's ears. He savored the sound, memorizing it intently.

A nagging thought made its way to the front of his mind that he wanted to ask Dias, but he feared the response. The visions he had witnessed caused him to doubt whether or not it would be best to know. Particularly the ones in which he saw Caled's lifeless body. Finally, knowing he would go crazy if he did not ask, he did so as he kept his gaze on Caled. "Are the visions ever wrong?"

Dias did not answer right away. It was a while before he said, "There are two kinds of visions Meryl gives: visions that are multiple ones grouped together so they fade in and out, never really letting you see the whole thing, and visions that are so intense, so real, that you actually feel what's happening to you. The first ones are never what they seem, for you don't know anything other than what you see."

"And the second?"

Dias' looked at his hands. "Painfully accurate," he whispered. "They always come true." The Lorien Elf stood, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. He gave his head a shake then said in a more casual voice, "So, Legolas, what are you and Caled? Lovers?"

Legolas gagged on air. "Excuse me?"

Dias grinned. "You think I can't tell? You stare at her when you think no one's watching, you're the first one to volunteer to find her if she's missing, you're extremely protective of her, you watch her as she sleeps, you're always near her--everything screams that you love her. So, are you?"

Legolas could not have been more surprised if the Elven sorcerer had magically dropped an Orc on his head. "No," he managed to say, "we're not. Far from it, actually. She's just now stopped threatening me with bodily harm. How did you get that idea?"

Dias frowned, scratching his head. "You two are acting like you're just in the middle of a fight or something." He laughed shortly, "Like me and Aurora were recently..."

"'Aurora'?" Legolas repeated.

Dias nodded. "Yes, she and I are lovers," he stated matter-of-factly.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "With Auron around? I've only been with the Guild for a short time and I can already see how protective of his sister he is."

"True, true," Dias agreed. He sighed, "You wouldn't believe how long and how much debate it took before he even allowed our relationship."

"How long have you two been together?" Legolas asked, thankful to get the subject of his relationship with Caled--or lack of one.

Dias counted to himself. "Around two centuries," he said nonchalantly.

"200 years?" Legolas gaped. "Have--Have you--" He tried unsuccessfully to form the words but failed.

"Consummated our love?" Dias filled in, snickering at the Prince's fumbling. "I told you. Oh, you meant since we had began the relationship? That was just fifty more years."

"And she still hasn't conceived a child?" Legolas could not help but ask.

Dias shrugged, "Not to my knowledge."

---

At the same time, Caled and Aurora were having a very similar conversation. Also having asked Caled again about her relationship with Legolas, Caled countered with her own about Aurora and Dias. When Aurora proudly pronounced how long they had been together--in both senses--Caled could not help but ask the same question as Legolas.

"Pregnant?" Aurora repeated. A sly smile went across her face as she said, "I am a master of herbs and the like, there's no way I'm ever going to get pregnant unless I want to."

Caled made a face, looking off to the side. "Uh-huh."

Aurora grinned, then looked up at the sky. "Oh, we better get inside. It's getting late and Bowman needs to make you a weapon."

Wordlessly, Caled began to follow, looking at the sky as well. She stopped when her gaze fell on two figures standing atop the roof: Legolas and Dias. For some reason she stopped, staring at Legolas. Something Aurora had said earlier echoed in her mind:

'_Don't let that one slip away. He's a fine catch.'_

Caled had never given a second thought about his appearance, mainly because she was repulsed by the idea of just being near an Elf. What did she care whether or not he was 'a fine catch'? Why should she care?

Her thoughts were stopped when he turned his head in her direction. Blue met red. Red ice met blue fire yet the ice refused to melt, her iron will taking control. Her gaze turned into a glare and she snarled, storming back into the house.

On the roof, Legolas sighed, shaking his head in defeat. _Maybe one day,_ he mused to himself as he went to followed Dias--who had left some time ago--into the house. _Maybe I'll be able to penetrate her defenses._

---

Bowman had just finished crafting Caled's dagger when Auron said that they would leave in three hours. Everyone agreed and began to prepare, going over their techniques for the battle yet to come. Rali, Anex, and Clad were going to use their own weapons since they were the only ones who could draw enough blood with one strike with their weapons. When they left, despite their superior hearing and senses, the entire group failed to notice something following them.

It was the twisted, dark form of a being...with a shock of light red hair running into glowing light red eyes...

----------

A. N. -- Little side note: 'Zage' is pronounced with a long 'e', ('ZAY-GAY')


	12. Chapter XII: Rescue or Trap?

Chapter Twelve - Rescue... Or Trap?

Darkness surrounded the large, castle-like building in the distance, the shadows making the half-broken structure even more uninviting to the eye. Though it was in the middle of a forest, it stood in a clearing, an expanse of around fifty feet of just open, tall grass before the trees. Around this perimeter, in one of the large trees, an Elf was perched, his honey-hazel eyes intently watching the creatures patrolling the clearing closest to the castle. Behind him, further back into the forest, was the rest of his group, waiting for his report as well as the others they had sent out on the opposite side.

On the other side, in two different trees about three yards apart, were Legolas and Dias. They as well as Tan were memorizing the paths and shifts of the guards, trying to find a point when it would be best to attack.

Even with Denya's assurance, Legolas could not help but feel a little nervous about being so close to so many Reapers. His hand found its way to one of the knives Bowman had made for him. He stole a glance at the only thing keeping the Reapers from hearing his pounding heart: a thin silver band encircling his wrist, engraved with a writing he did not recognize. It was another product of her smithing abilities, which seemed to have no end. This band prohibited any sound from leaving Legolas' being, so he could make no sound at all. The downside was he could not even be heard if he spoke so if he was found, he was on his own. Tan had no need of one since he was so skilled in stealth, yet he and Dias had to have one. Both Denya and Bowman insisted he would not be heard, but still, he was nervous.

He turned his attention back to the Reapers. He idly noticed that these particular ones were more like the first one he had seen of their kind: stocky and somewhat squatted,

_Like a frog,_ he thought with a silent chuckle. He also saw that their stripes were green as well, ranging from the darkest to the lightest hue without being a different color all together. One corner of his mind wondered what the stripes were for.

Legolas' sharp eyes caught something, just below and to the side of him by the base of the tree next to him. He stole a glance upon reflex. All of his body functions ceased at what he saw there.

The boy he had seen in the tree so long ago was looking up at him with his golden eyes, the bits of red and green making the orbs shimmer. He grinned, waving to the hidden Elf.

Legolas motioned for the boy to stop and go away; fearing the Reapers would see him. The boy stopped, frowning, then he jumped up, rushing into the clearing before Legolas knew what had happened. The boy skipped, then jumped into a somersault right in front of a Reaper. He landed, throwing his arms up and smirking.

The Reaper moved right past him, its head turned so that it never even saw the boy. The boy then hopped closer to another, sticking out his tongue and making faces at it.

_What is he doing?_ Legolas thought, half of his mind going insane with worry over the boy and the other half wanting to attack the Reapers at the first sign of seeing the boy.

A small pebble struck his head. Legolas caught it before it fell down. He looked up to see Dias motioning that it was time to go. Legolas held up a hand, pointing down at the boy. Dias made a face, following the direction. He looked up after a second and--to Legolas' utter puzzlement--shrugged, mouthing, _'What?'_

Legolas pointed again, but Dias shook his head, jumping into a nearby tree to begin his way back to the others. Legolas had no choice but to do so as well. He looked back to make sure the boy was still all right.

The boy was gone.

---

"What were you trying to say?" Dias asked when they were within safe distance of the others and deactivated their bracelets' spell.

"I was trying to tell you about that boy," Legolas replied, glancing back as if the boy was there. He could not help but feel worried--or was it anxious? He could not tell which it was.

"What boy?" Dias said.

"That boy that was in the clearing," Legolas said, thinking Dias was being difficult.

"Legolas," the white-haired Elf said slowly, turning to look at him, "there was no boy, only Reapers."

Legolas stopped, frowning. He was sure of what he had seen, yet he could tell by Dias' tone that he was neither joking nor lying. What was going on? "N-Never mind then," Legolas said, waving the matter away.

When they reached the others, they gave their report, then listened to Tan's. When they were done, Auron said, "It seems that there is no distinct pattern in their movements, so there goes that idea. Looks like we'll just have to get in without letting them know."

"I still say we kill them all now," Darin said, tightening his grip on his Bo.

Denya shook her head from where she stood just before the clearing, still watching the Reapers. "If even one noticed us, the Voice would tell them all and the entire place would be on full alert. It would be best to lay low until we find the brats and get them out." A strange gleam came to her eyes as she flipped a set of daggers into her hands. "Then we can start the killing spree."

"Some times I wonder whether or not you're really sane," Bowman said, rolling his eyes.

Denya grinned, yet it was one that sent chills down everyone's spine. "Of course I'm sane"

"Save it for when we do fight," Aurora said, running a nervous hand down her bowstring. "I say we just give it a few more minutes then go in as planned. Now, as for when we get in--"

The rest of her statement was lost by Legolas, his eyes transfixed on the daggers in Denya's hands as she flipped them back and forth, never missing a beat as she listened to Aurora. They were not the normal daggers he had seen her use nor were they like any other he had seen before. The hilts were large, extending well past her fist when she held them, and were made out of a silvery metal. Intricate carvings covered the entire surface on both hilts. The blades were long and thick; one side on each was jagged with painful looking points. They were made out of a shiny black material, the soft moonlight making them appear to glow. More carvings were on the blades, ones that seemed to move on their own, shifting and becoming something new as soon as he saw them clearly.

**_LEGOLAS? are you ready?_**

The mental words shook him out of his trance. He met Mornie's blind, golden eyes and nodded. The creature had only recently awoke from the sleep the medicine Aurora had given him induced. He had used his abilities to understand the situation from Caled and was as ready to complete it as anyone else.

"Weapons set?" Auron asked, looking over the group. Everyone nodded, gripping his or her choice weapons. "Let's go."

As one they all moved into the grass. It was about knee-high, so they had to crouch low to the ground to avoid being seen. Without giving any sign, the Guild spread out in a semi-circle around Aurora, Caled, Legolas, Mornie, and Bowman. They did not break stride as Reapers began to grow in number around them, yet they continued unnoticed. The castle grew ever closer then soon they were there. Auron searched for a little while before finding a way in through a collapsed wall. He ushered everyone inside, coming in just before Clad.

They were in what had been a courtyard some time ago. This area was vacant. They went on, staying close to the wall. The castle itself was mostly still together, so they had to inch their way to the door. Rali went forward, slowly prying open the old wood. It started to creak, causing everyone to freeze. Dias hurried up beside Rali and swiftly cast a silence spell on the door. It opened without any further noise and they went inside. The castle was dark and dusty, vines that were from the plants outside had grown through the various cracks and holes covered the walls. Two descending staircases lead the way upstairs.

Auron pointed at Tan then jerked his head out towards the stairs. Tan nodded, stooping low and looking intensely at the ground. For several seconds, he moved around the large room they were in looking for any clue, no matter how small. He stopped, motioning for them to come closer. He motioned to the ground. In the thick layer of dust and dirt, they could see footprints; several sets of them, leading off up one staircase. The prints belong to children, but there were tracks that were on either side belonging to Reapers. Tan raised his head, pointing up one set of stairs and mouthed the words, 'Up there.'

Tensely, they followed him up the stairs; every little sound making their hold on their weapons tighten. They went into a long hallway with several doors leading into other rooms.

The further they got, the more Legolas had the nagging sense that something was wrong. No matter how hard he tried to figure out what it was it slipped away, just out of reach. He frowned in frustration. It was on the tip of his tongue but it still did not come to him.

Legolas was so deep in thought, he ran into Darin when the group came to a stop. The blonde thief turned and glared at him, mouthing, _'Pay attention!'_ Legolas mouthed that he was sorry, but Darin glared back with eyes fit to kill before he turned back around. They had paused just before a door; Tan checking the tracks he had followed to verify that they were the ones they needed.

Then, without warning, he kicked in the door, sending it crashing down the stairway it had shielded from view. He rushed in, shouting behind him, "Hurry! They're down here!" The others poured in, Legolas and Caled the only ones who were surprised at the sudden explosion of noise. They exchanged a confused glance before following the others down the winding stairway.

The stairs continued to go on and on and it seemed that there would be no end to them. Then they abruptly came to a stop. The stairs ended into a large hallway, a single door visible in the dim light. Not pausing, Tan threw his body into the door, breaking it into splinters. He rolled into a crouching position, sai raised.

The room was extremely large with no furniture, various doors situated around the circumference. Outcroppings of rocks that were all over the higher parts of the walls looked like perches for birds. In the middle of the room was a large group of children, all who had looked up in alarm at the Elf who had barreled through the door. But Tan was not worried about them at that moment, the two Reapers who had been guarding the children leapt on him, shrieking in surprise.

Tan ducked an arm one threw out and raised his arm to catch it, driving his sai into the left half of the chest where its heart would be. The Reaper jerked, then crumpled. Tan kicked it off of him and turned to face the other one. The Reaper hissed, beginning to charge.

/**THUNK THUNK**\

Two arrows flew through the air and struck one eye apiece. The Reaper was thrown back, tumbling to the ground before it struck the wall. Aurora kept her next arrow pointed at it in case it was still alive. When she was certain it was dead, she swung her bow around her shoulder and moved inside to the group of children. She looked them over, whispering calming words to the younger ones who were crying. She checked them for injuries, hurriedly bandaging major ones. Clad assisted her by checking the older ones. When they were through, she looked up and said, "They're mostly fine, but we need to get them out of here before the rest come."

"The rest?" Caled said.

"Don't tell me you think this would be this simple," Bowman said with a chuckle. His face grew grave as he said, "The Reapers knew we were coming. How else could we have gotten in so easily?"

"They already knew?" Legolas questioned.

"I noticed that the tracks had been set deliberately," Tan said from his place by the door, glancing into the hallway. "If the Reapers had truly wanted to hide the children they would have covered their tracks carefully. They lead us here on purpose."

"They want this fight as much as we do," Darin said, tapping his shoulder with his Bo.

"Which is why we need to get these kids out now," Denya said. She herded the children closer together, saying, "Everyone holds hands. You, the two girls. Yes, you, hold the babies. And you five, you gather the rest. Make sure you're holding someone's hands." When she was sure their hands were all linked, she went back to the group and said, "They're going to be teleported back to the village before the Reapers get here."

"The you should get going. I can hear them, they're on their way," Bowman said.

"No," Denya said, slipping off a bracelet from her left arm. She held it out to Bowman. "You're taking them."

"What!" he exclaimed. "Why should I--"

"BOWMAN!" Darin shouted, his face tensed with anxiousness. "Just do it!"

The multi-colored haired Elf began to object but stopped, growling in defeat. He snatched the bracelet from Denya, grumbling under his breath. "You owe me."

"Put it on my tab," Denya replied, smirking.

He went to the children and took a place in the link. He rolled his eyes before closing them. A bright flash of white light surrounded them before it dispersed.

They were gone.

"Get ready," Denya said, her smirk tainted with a strange glee. She raised her daggers, clashing the hilts together. In the blink of an eye, her arm guards formed, the daggers now embedded in them above the back of her hands, the blades stretching just a little bit after her fingers.

As if on cue, all the doors in the room were thrown open, Reaper after Reaper pouring into the room. For a second, they did not attack, staring down the group in the middle of the room. Then, as one, they swarmed them.

The Guild separated, Aurora jumping, using one particularly tall Reaper to rebound higher, and landed on one of the outcroppings. She thanked the Reaper she had used by shooting an arrow through the eye.

Legolas nearly lost himself in the chaos that grew from the continuously attacking creatures. He could barely register if he was hit and whom he had struck against. But as he fought, his mind began to clear and his knives found the correct places for swift deaths. Somewhere, through the fuzz battle created in his mind, he noticed that the majority of Reapers had varying colors of purple and violet for hair and eyes, the rest were red. Again, he questioned the reason behind the colors.

Caled used both her dagger Bowman had made for her and her whip, the latter bringing Reaper closer for the former to do its work. She went through the mass of creatures, always making sure she checked their colors before delivering the killing blow. Mornie ran beside her in his wolf form, his powerful jaws ripping through the throats of the Reapers that tried to close in on them.

Rali and Clad worked on opposite sides of the room, their weapons tearing through Reaper after Reaper. Already black blood covered their forms but they paid no heed. The smarter Reapers were leaving them alone, deciding they'd rather be shot by an arrow or stabbed with a sword than ripped apart by a Berserker and Dwarf.

Dias stood in one spot, casting various spells at the ones that tried to attack him, stunning them long enough for him to use his sword. Darin and Tan were not far from him, clearing away the Reapers that tried to attack him during the middle of a spell.

Auron and Anex moved through the crowds, their strikes unseen by the untrained eye. They were swift but efficient. There was not one Reaper they passed that was not killed. In fact, they had to clean up after Denya sometimes.

Denya tore through the Reapers, not even bothering to check if the ones she went through were still alive. She used a very unique style of fighting that emphasized using the hands. The combined arm guards/daggers worked well with it, sinking deep into the Reapers every time she struck one. She was yelling out various things at them, shouting every now and then, "Die, pigs! Filth! Die!" This entire time, a smile was plastered on her face, murderous joy glowing in her eyes.

Within minutes, they were done. The floor was littered with the bodies of the Reapers, blood, and other things. "Anyone injured!" Aurora called as she jumped down from her perch.

"A few bumps and bruises!" Caled said, rubbing her head as it flared with pain. "But I'm okay!"

"Sprained wrist!" Tan said, grimacing as he rotated his left hand gently.

"Anyone cut?" Denya said.

"Yeah!" Darin shouted back, hand holding a gash on his arm.

"What kind struck you?" she asked, hurrying over to him and examining the wound.

"That one," he replied, kicking the limp body of a Reaper with a purple stripe.

"Dias!" Denya shouted, an anxious tone in her voice. "Get over here!"

"What do I do?" Dias said, seeing her tense.

"Freeze it. Now!" she said, ripping Darin's long sleeve to expose the thick gash.

Dias placed his hand over the wound. A light layer of frost suddenly grew over it, the blood that had been running out of it freezing. Darin winced at the sharp pain it caused but did not object.

"Anyone else?" Denya said.

Before they could reply, a low, sinister laughter sounded, echoing off the stone walls. They all tensed, going into a defensive stance in case they were attacked. Denya narrowed her eyes, looking for the source.

Suddenly a form integrated inside one of the doorways. It was a Reaper with a light red stripe in its hair. It took in the carnage and clapped. "Very good," it spoke in a thick yet clear voice, surprising the others since it was not scratchy like the other Reapers'. "Better than I had expected." It grinned, showing sharp teeth. "I can see you're not slacking off, Little Elf."

Denya made an animal-like sound, bearing her teeth. Her eyes started to glow.

The air in the room became thick, pressure increasing dramatically. A low rumble emitted from Clad's form, hunched over his sword in position to lash out. The hand on sword hilt was clenched so tight it was white, trembling in his fury. His growling---for that was what the rumble was---escalated as the Reaper turned amused eyes to the Half-Berserker. The pressure in the room lifted, leaving a sense of cold hate in it's wake.

The Reaper laughed. "Now, now," it said in a mock scold. "Is that anyway to thank me for sending you that informative little note?"

"Screw you, Ke'Dab!" Denya screamed. She leapt forward, thrusting her fist out. The blade of the back of her hand instantly stretched out longer, aiming for the Reaper's forehead.

The Reaper ducked, grabbing her arm and turned, throwing her back. Clad caught her before she landed on the ground. "Settle down," Ke'Dab said, sneering. "I will not fight you, Little Elf." It snapped its fingers.

From behind it, ten forms walked into the room. They were Reapers which looked surprisingly very much like Ke'Dab. They're colors were yellow, green, blue, brown, orange, gold (all somewhat pale), pink, gray, teal, and sea green. "They will fight you," Ke'Dab said, motioning to them. It waved, snickering. "Have fun!" it called before disappearing into thin air.

Denya ground out a curse as the Reapers slowly made their way to them.

"This'll be a piece of cake!" Darin said, flipping his Bo.

"Don't get cocky!" Denya snapped. "They're not normal Reapers!"

"What?" Caled said, making a face. "How can you tell?"

"Look at them," she said, her voice low and tight. "Look at their skin. It's not purple; it's dark blue, just like Ke'Dab's."

"So what?" Dias said.

"They will be touch to beat," she said through clamped teeth.

"That's right," the one with the brown stripe said, its voice clear as well. "We will be tough to beat. Tougher to kill."

"Because we are different," another stated, pale yellow eyes lighting up.

"You will not escape us," the lead one said, sea-green eyes darkening as it leapt up into the air, the other nine surrounding the Guild on all side. "Because we are the Elite!"

----------


	13. Chapter XIII: Breaking Spells

Chapter Thirteen - Breaking Spells

The old Storage Room had suddenly been put to use, the ten Reaper Elite surrounding the Guild on all sides, one covering from above. They scattered, each attacking the Reaper closest to them. That fact that they had one more member did little to ease them, because the Reapers showed that they were indeed different from the others that littered the floor with their dead bodies.

High above them, the ceiling was topped off with a glass dome, and behind that glass, stood three figures. One was watching the fighting going on below them, another stood at their side while the last stayed in the shadows, not wanting to watch the fighting. The first was shorter than the other two, about five and a half feet to their near seven.

"What do you think?" the one at their side commented.

"I can't tell yet," they replied, stroking their chin. "Only the outcome will tell me and you know that, Ke'Dab."

The Reaper bowed, saying, "Forgive me."

The person made a light 'hmm' sound, still watching the fighting.

Ke'Dab turned to the one in the shadows, smirking, "What's wrong? You don't want to watch, Na'Tath?"

Na'Tath refused to let the other Reaper get to them, saying through clenched teeth, "Shouldn't you be down there? They're your people, Ke'Dab. You should be with them if we are to see if the race is suited for Master Za--"

/**BAM**\

Na'Tath was unfazed by the strong blow Ke'Dab threw at it, staying still at their place beside the wall, crumpling to make Ke'Dab think it had seriously hurt them.

"You forget your place, you meaningless dufa'ga!" Ke'Dab roared, eyes narrowed in anger. "Do not talk to me as if you were on my level! I am up here because I choose to be! You do not have the right to make choices, so shut up!" It kicked Na'Tath in the side, fuming, "My host is strong enough so I do not need to be tested. Those ten, however, do. And stop confusing our hosts with what we really are. They are no more my people than you, Dufa'Ga."

"Calm yourself, Ke'Dab," the other said, not turning around. "You forget that she is not normal, like yourself."

Ke'Dab nodded, glaring at Na'Tath as it made its way back to stand beside the other.

Na'Tath slowly stood, legs shaking and white eyes blurring with the thought, _Why did he say that? '**She** is not normal'? Why even say I'm female? It's pointless. I'm no longer that girl._ Na'Tath rubbed her arms. _No matter how much I wish I could be._ Ke'Dab's words rang in her ears. _Dufa'Ga..._ Na'Tath sighed. _I don't know whether I should be happy about being dufa'ga..._

---

Denya gritted her teeth, driving her dagger into the shoulder of the Reaper before her. The Reaper grinned, grabbing her by the elbow and flinging her overhead. She turned in mid-air, landing neatly on her feet. She did not notice the Reaper had already rushed behind her. It sunk its claws into her back, forcefully turning her around to face it. "That all you got!" it hissed. It ripped its claws out, throwing her to the ground.

The others were not doing any better. They had been fighting for about fifteen minutes, and in that time they had begun to see that these Reapers were like none they had ever seen before. No matter where or how deep they cut them, the wounds healed. They did not seem to tire and were far more agile than anyone could guess. The entire group was covered in injuries ranging from scratches to bruised bones while their adversaries were good to go.

Caled was on the other side of the room, trying to catch her breath as Mornie fought to keep the Reaper with yellow eyes away. Blood ran into her eyes from a gash on her head the Reaper had made by throwing her headlong into the wall. She already had a splitting headache from earlier and that did not help. It was all she could do to keep from passing out.

The Reaper caught Mornie and tossed him like a rag doll into the wall, knocking him out. Caled gasped his name, rushing to him. The Reaper caught her, saying, "Oh, no you don't. You not getting away that easy." Its hand wound around her throat, sadistic humor brightening its face as she tried to pry its grip loose. "I have special orders that you do not die," it whispered so only she could hear. "But they said nothing about being half-dead."

Denya struggled to get up. "What are you?" she said through short, labored breaths. She focused over the pain her bruised ribs gave her, knowing it may be a fatal mistake otherwise.

The Reaper she was facing continued to grin, jerking its head to the side to make its sea green striped hair sway out of its matching eyes. "I told you," it said, "we are the Elite." In the blink of an eye, it was in front of her. "We are faster than you are!" it said, punching her deep in the stomach. "We are stronger that you are! And we cannot be killed with weapons!" It grabbed her by the front of her black tunic, pulling her up to meet it eye-to-eye. It smirked, examining her face. "Do you know what an honor it will be to kill you?" it said. "I will be remembered as the one who took Kaha'Dak's Spark. The Voice will make sure my name is remembered through out history."

"Hate to break your speech so soon," Denya said, pulling herself up by latching onto its wrist, "but you forgot something."

It cocked its head to the side. "And what it that?"

She grinned. "I'm not called Kaha'Dak for nothing."

The Reaper stopped, puzzled. Without warning, its other shoulder and arm began to tremble, then something within it exploded, blinding the Reaper. Denya swung, kicking it in the face hard enough to make it let her go. She spun, catching the Reaper in the side, throwing it to the ground. It sprung back up, staring at the stump that had been its arm. It glared at Denya, shouting, "How!"

It was Denya's turn to smirk. "While it's obvious that you're a new breed of Reapers," she said, "it's even more obvious that you're the same basically." She raised her arm, showing the Reaper the dagger she had stabbed into its shoulder. It dripped with a strange, bright green ooze. "This is designed to become explosive when in contact with Reaper blood for prolonged amounts of time."

To Denya's surprise, the Reaper began to chuckle. Before her eyes, the stump began to stretch, forming a new arm. "Much better," it said, flexing the arm. "I see that killing you will be no easy feat. But I shall enjoy it none the--" It stopped, eyes going wide before snapping off to the side, staring at something in surprise.

The other Reaper Elite were doing the same, stopping in their fights and focusing their attention at Caled and the yellow Reaper. The Guild followed their gaze, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Under normal circumstances they would have rushed to help Caled, but the sudden frozen statures of the Reapers made them stop, wondering if it would be wise.

Across the room, Caled was struggling to breathe as the Reaper's hand was tightening and loosening with an irregular pattern. If she had opened her eyes, having closed them in an effort to concentrate on breathing, she would have seen that the Reaper's head and neck shook with spasms, its other hand clutching its face. It looked at her through the gaps in its long fingers, the irises of its pupil less yellow eyes shrinking and expanding in time with its spasm, glaring at her in a way that spoke volumes of hate. "You WITCH!" it shouted, slamming her into the ground. "Stop it! Stop it now!" it ordered, the hand that had been holding her shaking with tremors as well.

Caled lay on the ground motionless, her eyes staring blankly up. The pain in her head had reached the point where she could no longer take it, forcing her to stop moving. She had stopped thinking. She could barely hear someone shouting her name over the roaring in her ears. It was Legolas, her mind noted numbly.

"I said stop it!" the Reaper said again, yanking her up by the hair. The action caused her to reflexively gasp, shutting her eyes and clamping her hands on the sides of her head. She never knew she could feel so much pain at once. She thought she was going to die from it. The Reaper once again shouted for her to stop and backhanded her, its sharp fingers making parallel cuts in her right cheek.

And then, something broke in her mind.

The Reaper shrieked, recoiling as if it had been struck. Caled fell to her knees, her head raising on its own. Her mouth was moving, yet no audible sounds came from her, and her nose was bleeding. Her eyes opened, a white light shining from within them, set on the Reaper. The foul creature writhed in pain, screaming, "What are you? What are you?"

The light from her eyes exploded, covering the room in a dazzling brightness, blinding everyone. The yellow Reaper, along with the two closest to her, disintegrated instantly. When it cleared, Caled swayed, her red eyes rolling back into her head, then fainted.

The Reaper with the sea-green stripe cursed fluently in Mordor, causing the Elves around it to wince in pain, before shouting, "Fall back! NOW!" it added when a few gave it odd looks. They nodded, vanishing into thin air as Ke'Dab had done.

Denya let out a loud breath, holding her side gingerly as she said, "Let's get out now before they come back." No one replied, but did so, Aurora helping Denya place Caled on the raven-haired Elf's back.

---

A celebration was waiting the tired, yet somewhat pleased, party when they returned to the village. Bowman verbally beat Denya about how stupid and careless she had been, sporting the more serious injuries of them all. She repaid him for his concern by elbowing him deep in the stomach when he was not expecting it. The village doctors had insisted on healing their wounds, but Aurora would have none of that, saying she was only one with knowledge of how to treat these wounds. They were quickly led to the finest house in the village--which had somehow come from the raid without a scratch--and ordered to rest there before the festival to be held in their honor.

While they were there, Aurora went around to everyone. She wrapped Tan's wrist, sewed various cuts, applied herbal compounds to several bruises, and so on. When she came to the gash on Darin's arm, Denya called from her place sprawled out on a bed, "Better use the strong stuff. Don't want to get a nasty infection from the Reaper."

Darin gave her a quizzical look, but Aurora nodded with a grim expression on her face. She then spread a thick, dark green paste on his arm. "Oh, hush," she said, rolling her eyes when he complained very vocally that it burned. "That's a good thing, dimwit," she said, thumping his head. "If it didn't burn you be in deep shi--"

"How's Caled?" Legolas interrupted, unable to contain the question any longer. The room grew quiet, everyone glancing over at the other bed in the room.

Besides having a major concussion, Caled had bruised ribs and body-wide contusions. The nosebleed, Aurora said, was probably from a concussion but she could not be sure. It might have been from brain damage but until Caled woke up they would not know. She was still unconscious. Mornie sat by her side in his cat form, a pensive expression on his face. He stared at her with his golden eyes.

Aurora sighed, knowing that Legolas was really beating himself up. During the whole fight, he had tried to stay by Caled, but the Reapers had almost intentionally separated them. She knew he had wanted to prevent this from happening, but he had been unable to aid her. "I told you," she said gently, shaking her head, "I won't be able to tell until she wakes up. Relax." When he made to move to do so, Aurora hurriedly tied off the bandage on Darin's arm and went to him, leaning over and whispering into his ear soft enough so the others could not make out what she said, "Relax, for her sake." Her words had some effect. His face, strained to keep his emotions hidden, softened as he let out a deep breath, nodding to show he agreed.

"Anyone got an idea on what that bloody light was about?" Denya asked, pushing up onto her elbows to look at everyone—wincing at the pain in the ribs. "I know it wasn't a hallucination, because you all saw it as well."

Aurora made a face, saying in mock shock, "Aw, and I thought you had been sniffing my herbs again."

Denya twitched, her face tinting a greenish color. "Don't remind me..." she said in a queasy tone.

The rest of the Guild snickered at the memory. Darin's face screwed up in an attempt of hiding a grin. Dias, however, saw the perfect opportunity, saying, "The pink polka-dotted Orcs are after me!" in a high-pitched imitation of Denya.

Denya growled, playfully throwing a pillow at him. "Watch it!" she cautioned, though she was grinning as well.

Legolas rolled his eyes, deciding that he would never understand some people. Nor did he want to in some cases.

"Seriously, though," Denya said, sitting up and resting her head on her fist, "does anyone know?"

Shrugs, shaking heads, and 'search me' looks were her answer. She made a noise expressing her frustration, looking out the window. "...could be..." she muttered, most of the sentence lost.

"Eh?" Aurora said.

"I said I wonder what it could be," Denya said, not turning away. "I mean, whatever it was, it was powerful enough to disintegrate three Reapers." She shrugged hopelessly, "As far as I know, that's the only way to kill these Reaper Elite."

"Do you know why they were stronger?" Auron asked.

Denya shook her head, moving her green and blue eyes to meet his brown ones. "Keep in mind, Auron, I still know close to nothing on why there are so many different kinds of Reapers. I can't tell. We may have to wait until we can capture a live one to find out." She snorted, laughing at her own words, "What am I saying? We could never capture a live one."

Before anyone could say another word, a groan came from Caled. Aurora and Legolas were immediately at her side. "Caled?" Aurora said in a soft voice, gently shaking her shoulder. "Caled? Wake up."

Slowly, Caled's eyes began to open. She frowned, starting to sit up. Blood rushed to her head, forcing her to lay back down. "Ow," she moaned, rubbing her forehead. "Major ow." She looked up, asking, "Where are we?"

"We're back in the village," Legolas said, Aurora beginning to check Caled for signs of the concussion. "Do...you remember what happened, Caled?"

Caled frowned, thinking. "I remember that Reaper, saying something like 'stop', and my head was hurting like nothing else, then..." she trailed off. "I don't know. Why? What happened?"

Briefly, they explained what had happened. By then she was able to sit up without getting dizzy or her head hurting. She gave them a look that showed she did not believe them. "A white light," she repeated, "came out of my eyes and destroyed three of the ten Reaper Elite?" They nodded. "You guys must have been smoking some bad pipe weed, because that is--"

"--entirely possible, considering the circumstance."

Everyone turned to the voice. Mornie nervously cleared his throat, saying, "Everyone except for Caled, Aurora, Dias, and Auron, please leave the room. Don't ask questions, just do it." The deathly grave tone in his voice left no room for discussion, the others doing as he asked.

When they were outside, Denya immediately pressed her ear against the closed door, trying to hear what was being said. After a while, she growled, giving the door a solid pound, muttering, "They set a silence spell! Now how am I supposed to hear!"

"I think that's the point, Denya," Darin said, rolling his eyes. "We should just sit and wait until they're finished."

For an hour, they did so, Legolas pacing the floor in worry, Denya occasionally joining him because of restlessness. It was during such pacing, when they were both down the hall a ways, which Denya stopped dead in her tracks, frozen like a statue. Beside the door, Clad--who had been standing guard--raised his head, jerking it around towards the door. Because of his omnipresent hood, no one could see his eyes but they knew he was staring at it.

Denya had a frown on her face, her eyes snapping to the sides rapidly. "What in..." she whispered, whipping around and running to the door. She paused, biting her lower lip in thought, before she placed her hands flat on the door, touching her forehead to the smooth wood as well, her eyes closed.

"What's wrong?" Tan asked, standing from his place on the floor. "What is it?"

Denya did not answer him. Clad did. "Spells," he said, his voice low and tensed. "Dias spell cast."

"What kind?" Anex asked, a strange expression on his stern face.

"Powerful." With that, Clad turned his head back around, bowed it to his chest, and stood still.

Silence came into being, Denya keeping her current position for some time. Legolas, unable to pace anymore, watched her for any sign as to what was going on through the door. Finally, she stepped back, a thin film of sweat on her face. She stopped his question by meeting his eyes, sending a silent message: '_I can't tell.'_

The door opened, Auron coming through. He quickly shut the door again and leaned against it. His composure was calm, but his brown eyes were darker than normal.

"How is she?" Legolas blurted before he could catch himself.

"Caled will be fine, with plenty of rest," Auron said slowly, choosing the right words.

"What's wrong with her?" Rali asked, coming closer.

"It must be something big," Denya said, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "otherwise why would Dias be throwing about B-level spells?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of Auron's mouth. "He was, as you said, 'throwing around B-level spells' because he was trying to reverse the effects of an A-level spell." His face grew hard again as he said, "In the shortest words, Caled has an certain amount of psychic abilities in addition to her power over combustion and vegetation." He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his jaw in thought. "According to Mornie," he said in a low voice, "someone put several spells on her when she was young, hindering her mental abilities from developing. The head injuries she received fighting forced them to grow. Mornie said that with time she will be able to control them, but for now, he warns that if anyone experiences anything strange, it's probably from her and is more than likely an accident. "

The group before him was shocked by this information. It was several seconds before Anex said, "What kind of abilities?"

Auron shrugged. "Not even Mornie can tell their full extent. So far he said she's showing signs light telepathy and of something he calls 'Dream Hastening'. That last one is probably what she did to the Reaper Elite, along with her combustion powers."

At that moment, the door at the very end of the hallway opened a breathless messenger running through. He bowed, saying between breaths, "Lord Micha requests your presence immediately. He wishes to discuss a very important matter with all of you." Since he was keeping his eyes down, he did not see them activate their disguises.

"Tell him we will be there shortly," Auron said, raising a hand to dismiss him. As the messenger turned around, Auron thought of something and called after him, "Wait. Where are we to meet him? We should not travel very far, due to some of our injuries."

The messenger nodded, saying, "Lord Micha knows that as well and has requested that you gather in his study." He pointed out of the door and said, "It is down that hallway, fifth door on the left."

As he walked out, everyone exchanged glances. "This is Micha's house?" Tan said, a quizzical look on his face.

"This guy get weirder and weirder," Darin stated.

Denya made a noise of agreement, biting her thumbnail in deep thought.

"I mean, he's the leader of the village," Darin went on, "yet he comes off with the least amount of injuries, and his home isn't even touched when half the village is burned down! He's either incredibly lucky or something else."

"My guess would be something else," Denya said, rubbing her neck tiredly, "but we have nothing to prove it with."

"I'll get the others," Auron said, going back into the door.

---

"You have no idea how thankful I am so see all of you," Micha said, motioning for them to sit. The study was more like a combination library and office, bookshelves replacing the walls and a large desk in front of big bay windows.

Micha was seated at the desk, several chairs and couches facing him. Cautiously, they took various seats, Denya and Caled taking the chairs that were furthest from him. Denya was still suspicious of Micha, and Caled did not know if she could walk any further. Dias' spells were starting to take effect and she was having a hard time listening as well as focusing her mind so it would not run amuck.

"Have the children been returned to their homes?" Auron asked.

Micha nodded, sadness lingering on his face. "Those whose parents are still alive were returned. Those who died, well, they will be staying here. There are many rooms that are unoccupied in my house so they can live here until we find suitable homes for them."

After that, Denya lost interest in the conversation as it turned to different things such as better protection for the village, scouting parties to ensure they would not be attacked again, and so on. Her eyes wandered aimlessly across the various books and other items in the room. She stopped, her eye catching something. She stood, ignoring the stares she was getting, and cross the floor to one of the bookcases. She pointed to a transparent globe seated in a golden stand sitting on the shelf. She turned to Micha, saying, "What is this?"

For the briefest instant, Micha's face paled, then it cleared as he stammered, "Th-that? Oh, it's just some nick-knack, of no value at all!"

"Is it supposed to change?" she asked, picking it up.

Unseen by the others, Caled jerked in her chair. She winced, pressing her hand to the side of her head, other gripping the chair arm to steady her.

A noticeable line of sweat formed on Micha's brow when she touched it. "Change? No, not at all! It's just a glass ball--a large marble if you would!" The excited, worried tone in his voice did not convince Denya.

"Uh-huh," Denya said, twirling it with her fingers. Her sharp eyes saw Micha's face grow white. She tossed it into the air, catching it and staring at it intently. "So it's not a Viewing-Globe?" she asked casually.

"No, of course not!" Micha insisted. He blanched, knowing he had made a mistake.

The Guild was on their feet, weapons drawn and pointed at Micha. Micha stared at them, shouting, "What is the meaning of this!"

"Shut your mouth!" Darin said, his muscles twitching with anticipation. "No one would know what a Viewing-Globe is unless they've dealt with Reapers!"

A startled, sharp cry of pain came from behind them. Caled fell from her chair, hand clutching her head. "Caled!" Legolas and Aurora shouted in unison, rushing to her.

She gritted her teeth, roughly, pushing them away as she stood, grabbing a nearby chair for support. "Denya!" she said, hastily wiping away the blood that trickled from her nose. "He'Ja!" she said, glaring at Micha, who stared at her in disbelief. "The activation word is 'He'Ja'!"

Denya nodded, turning to the ball in her hand. "He'Ja," she repeated firmly. The surface of the ball glowed, within it an image beginning to form. She did not wait for it to clear, because she knew what it was. She growled, throwing the ball to the floor, shattering it. "You're the one!" she roared.

Micha jumped from his seat, trying to escape. Denya leaped from her place, landing on his desk and catching him by the collar. She threw him back into the chair, raising a dagger to his throat. "Don't move," she warned, her eyes glowing.

Micha met her eyes, snapping back, "It's useless! You're all dead anyway!"

"You wish," Denya said. "You haven't realized it yet? They've deserted you, left you for us to deal with." She flicked the dagger. It caught him in the shoulder, pinning him to the chair. Before he could say anything else, she took out another dagger, cutting his shirt off his body. She took one look at the bandages on his chest and arm, then pulled the dagger across them, shedding them.

A hush fell on the group at what the bandages had hidden. Running from his stomach, up his chest, and down to his forearm was a huge, intricate design. It looked like a wildfire burning out of control and within the flames were skeleton pieces. A large skull rested over the left side of his chest, just over his heart. At the end of it, on his arm, there were several markings that were similar to the gashes that had been on Kain's back; the writing of the Reapers.

Denya's eyes narrowed in hate. "So," she snarled, her mouth twisting into a look of disgust, "you're the Reaper's spy. You're the one that told them we were coming."

Micha's eyes darkened. "Yes, I was. And it's a shame they didn't kill you." He sneered, "Or the brats. Would've made this place a lot quieter."

"All the talk," Aurora said, her face the picture of disgust, "all the so-called 'worry' for the children, those innocent kids, it was a lie?"

"Of course, how else would I get you to trust me?"

"You set it up?" Denya said, more a statement than a question.

Micha snorted. "That's right, I did. But for some reason, they kept the brats alive, even though I told them to kill half of 'em just to get you mad." He spat in Denya's face, saying, "I would have loved to see you suffer."

Denya calmly wiped her face clean. Her leveled eyes held Micha, silencing him. "There are two things," she said, her voice dull, betraying the rage she was feeling, "I hate: arrogant people and hypocrites. But what I can't stand--" Her hand flew behind her back, ripping out one of her black and silver daggers. "--is arrogant hypocrites!" She thrust her dagger down, deep in Micha's heart.

A blood-curdling scream came from Micha. A thick, black mist rose from his body swiftly, shooting out through the window's glass. Micha's lifeless body slumped, his glazed eyes staring out.

Denya ripped her dagger from him, wiping it clean with the discarded bandages. She stood, jumping down off the desk. "If anyone asks," she said, her attitude strangely normal, "we were attacked by a Reaper that trailed us. Micha was killed and we disposed of the Reaper."

"What?" Caled said, confused. She was still shaking off the effects of involuntarily reading Micha's mind, but she was coherent enough to register what she was saying. "Why lie?"

"It's obvious that the townspeople loved Micha," Rali said. "If we told them that he had sold them out to the Reapers--ordering the destruction of their homes and capture of their children--it would kill them. However, I believe that we should tell Matthew, Kain's father. He's the most trustworthy one here, so I think it would be safe to tell him."

---

The next day, after a tiring night of both celebration and mourning, Legolas woke up with the sun shining in his face. He had not realized how tired he had been, surprised that he had actually slept part of the night. He quickly dressed and went down to the kitchen area for a little breakfast. Caled, Darin, Tan, and Anex were already there. His sharp ears could hear laughing voices coming from the open door leading to the back yard; several high-pitched squeals of children and one older, deeper laugh. He decided it was Aurora playing with the children that had stayed the night.

"Good morning," he greeted.

"Good morning," Anex replied.

"Morning," Tan said, motioning for him to join them at the table.

"Morn'," Darin said, adverting his eyes from Legolas

"Hmm." Caled refused to look up at him. Legolas was beginning to see the wisdom in Dias' advice to patch things up with her. Whatever it was he had done.

"Where is everyone else?" he asked, thanking the maid that handed him a plate of food. She giggled, blushing. He failed to see Caled giving the maid a warning glare.

"Still asleep for the most part," Tan replied. "Auron's in a meeting with the council. They insisted on giving us a reward for returning the children and disposing the Reaper that had killed Micha." He shot the Elven Prince a look that said '_Don't ask_'.

"When do we depart?" he asked instead.

"As soon as possible, but we keep getting offers to stay a bit longer. Now that Matthew's the new village leader, he might want us to hang around until it's safe."

Legolas nodded, thinking. "The Reapers won't try again, will they?"

Tan shrugged. "From what Denya said, they did what they wanted to do: get us involved in order to test those Reaper Elite. They'll leave the village alone." He glanced around, making sure none of the maids were within hearing range. He noted with a smile that they had backed off after Caled had given them death-looks. "Bowman said he'd make sure they wouldn't attack again," Tan said in a whisper.

A loud yawn caught their attention. Aurora came down the stairs, stretching her arms above her head. Dias was behind her. One look at the two told why they were up so late. Darin and Tan looked at each other, rolling their eyes.

"Morning!" Aurora said, taking a seat next to Caled.

"And why are you two so late?" Anex said, teasingly.

"Rabbits!" Tan coughed into his hand.

Aurora shot him a look. "I'll have to remember that next time you and I spar." Tan's face fell.

"Wait...wait a second!" Caled said, a flabbergasted look on her face. "How can you be in here and out there at the same time?" she said, pointing to the open door.

Aurora frowned. "What are you talking about? I just woke up."

"If you're in here," Legolas said, feeling the same as Caled, "then..."

"...who's out there?" Caled finished. They both stood, going to the door and looking outside. What they saw made they stare.

It was not Aurora playing with the children. It was Denya. They appeared to be playing a game of tag, a little boy being 'It'. He chased after Denya, who turned around, making a face. She faked a trip and landed on her rear. The children saw and, like the little devils they were, pounced on her, beginning a tickling battle. She laughed, tickling them back.

"Am I seeing things?" Caled said, turning back inside.

Aurora shook her head. "No, Denya's playing with the kids." A thought crossed her mind. "Wait. You thought she was serious about leaving the kids to the Orcs?"

"Well...yeah," Caled said. "She was acting like she hated kids."

Darin made a short laugh. "Denya? Hating kids? Now that's funny!"

Legolas and Caled exchanged confused looks. "Why is it so funny?" Legolas asked.

"Denya's got a soft spot for kids," Aurora answered. "Even though she was acting like she hated them, she would have still gone after them if we did not agree to it. The Reapers know about this, and knew she would come." She sighed. "They've done it multiple times before, but never this severe. If they had seriously hurt any of the kids, she would have destroyed that entire castle."

Legolas looked back out the door, still amazed. This was the first time he had ever heard Denya laugh like that, it almost made him want to as well.

---

It was several more days until they were finally able to leave the village, and even then, they had to sneak out. Bowman assured them he could explain it to the people. Getting back on the road seemed to lift everyone's spirits, putting them all in a better mood.

They stopped for a break, Anex and Rali sparing. A question sparked Caled's curiosity. "Auron?"

"Hm?" he said, not turning from the fight.

Caled hesitated then said, "Can you teach me?"

All activities stopped, eyes turning to her. she felt nervous under their gaze, but continued, saying, "During the fights with the Reapers, I saw how easily you guys were able to fight them, and I was struggling, even with Mornie helping me. I...I want you to teach me. I want to train as well. I want to be stronger."

"The same goes for me," Legolas spoke up. "I want to better my skills, especially since it appears that we will be facing these Reapers in the future."

Auron was silent, no expression visible. "Are you sure?" he said, eyes studying them both.

"Yes," the said in unison.

A smirk spread across his face. "Very well."

----------


	14. Chapter XIV: An Inturlude

Chapter Fourteen - An Interlude

It was almost a full month after the incident with the Reaper Elite. They had yet to encounter another Reaper, or even an Orc for that matter, but it just made them grow wary. They had covered a vast amount of ground, considering how large their party was. According to Anex's calculations and Tan's report on the terrain changes, they would reach Mount Gundabad in another month and a half. The area they were currently in consisted of mainly trees, which they remarked was odd because they were supposed to be getting closer to mountain ranges and the ground was too rocky for trees to grow normally. But still, trees grew in abundance, stretching high overhead.

Auron had agreed that Legolas and Caled would now spar with the Guild, though they had yet to figure out what the two could do for the others. Both had made great progress in such a short time.

It was during a sparing session that Caled asked something that had been on hers--and Legolas'--mind for quite some time. "Aurora, what do you do for the sparring?" she said after a session with Clad, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

Aurora looked up from the pot she was stirring over the fire. "Eh?" she said, blinking.

"Well," Caled said, "Dias said that that you were for dodging or something like that."

"Evasiveness," Dias supplied.

"Right, but I've never seen you in a session before. So, what do you do?"

Aurora glanced at Auron, who shrugged. She grinned, standing up. "All right, then," she said, dusting off her skirt, "come here."

Caled stood as well, collecting her dagger and whip. Aurora stopped her by saying, "No, you don't need those just yet." Puzzled, Caled followed her out into the clearing they had been using as a practice area. Aurora took her by the shoulders, moving her to a certain spot. "Don't move," she instructed. She then walked backwards, counting the steps to herself until she was a ways away.

By the campfire, Legolas cast a look at Dias. "What is she doing?" he said.

Dias held up a hand to stop him. "Just watch," he said with a crooked smile, "you'll find this interesting."

"Ready?" Aurora called.

Caled shrugged. "I guess."

"Before you start," Darin suddenly spoke up, a scheming smile on his face, "may I suggest something?"

"Go ahead," Aurora answered.

"Since it is her first time against you, Aurora, why don't we give her a partner? It only seems fair."

Aurora thought about that. "Why not?" she said. "Who did you have in mind?"

"Denya."

"Huh?" Denya said, jerked out of her nap on hearing her name. "Whazzup?" she said sleepily.

"You're partnering with Caled for training," Aurora said, rolling her eyes.

Upon seeing that it was Aurora she was facing, Denya became fully awake, wiping the drool from her mouth and saying, "Sure, I'm itching for a fate worst than death." Caled gave Denya an alarmed look. Denya waved it off, coming to a stop beside her. "Hope you're good at lateral movements," she said under her breath.

"All right," Auron said from the sidelines, "the object is to run down there without getting hit and tag Aurora. Nothing more. Start when you're ready."

Caled for the life of her did not understand what was going on, but complied, running at a moderate pace. Denya snorted, crossing her arms behind her head. "Better be faster than that!"

Before Caled could inquire what she meant, her eyes caught something sailing in the air towards her. Upon reflex, she jumped out of the way. It was a small, brown bag tied off with a thin cord. It struck the ground, the bag busting open. A white, powdery substance spilled from it. Caled winced, covering her nose. "What is that?" she gasped, gagging from the stench.

"_That_," Denya said, pulling her out of the path of another one, "is 'a fate worse than death'. Herbal and medical mixtures in a very unstable bag, each with their own unique torture. Touch even a partial of it, and it'll still affect you."

"What do they do?"

"Depends," Denya said, pausing to sidestep another one, "could be anything from foul-smelling to a really bad rash and everything in between. And Aurora only gives you the bloody cure if you tag her in under a minute!" she added, glaring at Aurora, who smiled innocently, tossing another bag at them. "Better start running!" she told Caled, jumping up to avoid one.

Caled nodded, rolling to the side. She stood, running. She ducked several more, getting closer.

"Hmm," Aurora said, "pretty good. Try this!"

Without warning, Aurora flung her hands out, multiple bags flying from her hands. Some of these bags did more than just spill themselves when they hit the ground. They _exploded_.

Caled let out a startled yelp, barely escaping a particularly close blast. She took a breath, and rushed, zigzagging across the clearing. She used the smoke and dirt the explosions caused to hide herself when she could. She was in range. She leapt, flipping in the air. She reached out to tag Aurora, a triumphant grin on her face.

A brown bag suddenly collided with her face, the dusty brown power spilling all over her. Caught in mid-air, Caled could not see to land. Denya groaned, knowing she would hate this, and caught her, holding her breath against the smell. Caled coughed, her lungs protesting the substance and its smell. The others burst out laughing at the looks on their faces.

"Not bad," Aurora said, dusting her hands off. "But you still need practice."

"You think?" Caled hacked, glaring at Aurora.

"Gah!" Denya exclaimed, trying to fan the stench away. "I'm gonna make you pay for that Aurora! Gimme the cure!"

"Nope!" she said, skipping out of Denya's reach. "You didn't tag me!"

"But I wasn't being tested!"

"Doesn't matter!"

"AURORA!" Denya screamed, chasing after her. She was cursing fluently in all forms of language, demanding to have the cure. That went on for a few hours, ending when Aurora returned to the safety of the camp and Denya trudging behind her, grumbling. She snatched up her pack, saying to Caled, "Come with me."

Seeing that everyone was suffering from the stench, now doubled with Denya's return, Caled did so. She followed Denya a little ways into the forest, not noticing just how far they were from the others until they finally came to a stop just before a sudden growth of thick underbrush, blocking whatever was behind it from view. "What are we doing here?" she asked, glancing back at the way they had come.

"Well," Denya said, dropping her pack and going through it, "Aurora doesn't know this, but I got a little wiser after being caught several times by one of her powder-bombs. The last time I was able to get the cure, I saved half of it." With that, she drew out a vial, half-filled with a clear fluid. "And, while chasing her, I found this." She motioned with her head towards the underbrush.

Curious, Caled walked over, parting the bushes. She gasped. Before her was a huge, natural hot spring. Boulders surrounded it, making it look like a pool, with several more submerged in the misty waters. "Whoa," she breathed, the heat the water gave off becoming very tempting.

"Yeah," Denya said, coming up beside her. "I was gonna go by myself, but then I remembered you had gotten hit too." She twirled the vial in her hand, saying, "Just give this a second to work, then we can get in." She uncorked it, turning it over. She tossed the vial into the woods, running her hand through the water to mix it up. A strong, herbal scent started to waft through the air.

"Smells like roses," Caled said.

Denya made a sound that was a combination chuckle and snort. Her green and blue eyes stared at her reflection in the water as she said, "It ought to. It's made from one of the strongest scents you can find: a silver rose."

Caled blinked. "She was able to get a hold of one?" she questioned. Silver roses were known for their beauty and exquisite smell but they were extremely rare. The chances of finding even one were very slim.

"A few, actually," Denya said. "Every year, Aurora travels through Middle-Earth, restocking her herbs and seeing if there's any new method of healing she doesn't know of. She even visits the forest of Fangorn every now and then. It's ready," she stated, standing up to undress.

---

"Wasn't that a little bit cruel?" Legolas asked.

"Nope!" Aurora said, grinning from her place beside Dias. She was making a few more of the bags, carefully measuring the mixtures. "They need to learn!"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm going to have to be careful if I ever have to spar against you."

"At least you can learn from others' mistakes so you don't make them yourself," Auron said, smoking his pipe.

Conversations flew over the area as another pair began to spar, the time passing both slowly and swiftly. The sun began to make its descent before they realized it. Dias restarted the fire, humming a soft tune to himself. Aurora's ears perked, recognizing the song. She grinned, bumping her hip against his as he sat back down beside her. He merely smiled, drawing her into his arms and whispering to her.

As the others gathered around the fire, their words washing over Legolas. For the first time, it seemed, he realized the diversity of those around him. No one, not even Auron and Aurora, were alike. They came from different places, different times. They spoke with different accents and phrases. They had different temperaments. Different choices of weapons and fighting styles.

So different, it seemed almost surreal that they were a group. That they were even comrades.

A cup of strong wine was held under his nose. Rali smirked as Legolas jumped in surprise. The Half-Dwarf motioned for Legolas to take the cup. "What troubles you, Legolas?" Rali asked, politely ignoring the stunned look on Legolas' face.

Legolas drank the wine, noting that it must be one of Aurora's concoctions because of the strange yet pleasant aftertaste. He swallowed, debating whether or not to voice his thoughts. Then, focusing his eyes on the dark liquid in his cup, he said, "I was…wondering about the Guild."

Everyone looked up from their various places, curious. "What about us?" Tan asked.

Legolas shifted underneath their gaze. Taking another draft of the wine, he said slowly "I was wondering 'how.' How exactly...did you came together? How did the Guild form?"

---

"Ah! This feels great!" Caled sighed, dunking her head below the steaming water. She popped back up on the other side of the spring.

Denya sighed in agreement, having found a comparable spot to rest while letting the water soak into her skin. She had decided not to swim around for two reasons. One: Even though when a girl travels for centuries with a male dominated group and modesty does not all ways come first, she still had some decency and respect for other's privacy. Two: She did not want Caled to notice a few things.

Denya made a face, sinking down until the water rose just under her nose. Her hand touched her left shoulder, feeling the rougher, thicker skin that traveled down to the small of her back. She forced her mind to turn away from thoughts of the day she had received that scar...

"It's been so long since I last swam," Caled mused out loud, floating. "Brings back memories..." She abruptly stopped, splashing her face with water. "Don't dwell on that," she ordered herself quietly.

"What kind of memories?" Denya asked, having heard the last sentence and it catching her interest. When Caled did not answer, Denya knew she had put her foot in her mouth again. She was surprised, however, when Caled's head popped up on the other side of a relatively small boulder set into the water beside her. Denya frowned, noticing that until then Caled had kept her distance and always made sure only her head was out of the water. A small voice in Denya's brain wondered what Caled was hiding beneath the water.

Caled propped her head on the rock's surface. She was silent for a while, eyes studying the water. Then she said, "If I tell you...do you swear you won't tell any of the others?"

Denya frowned, saying, "I'll swear."

"Not even Legolas?" Caled pressed, a sudden flash of fear in her eyes.

Denya gave her a look. "I thought you guys had patched things up?" While Denya still made her obvious advances on Legolas, she was well aware of the growing attraction Caled had for the Prince of Mirkwood. The only thing that kept Denya from bringing her advances to the next level was that she did not know how Legolas felt about Caled. Despite the fact she greatly irritated the other girl, Denya thought of Caled as friend.

"Well," Caled said, running her finger on the stone, "he said he was sorry for whatever it was he had done that made me mad. It's just that for a second I read his mind, though I didn't mean to. But, what I saw..." Caled powers had been developing at a quick pace and now she was for the most part in control, with the occasional slip up.

"See something dirty?" Denya teased.

Caled's already heated skin turned a darker shade of red as she stuttered, "N-No! Of course not! He would never do that!" She shook her head, getting back on track and said, "I didn't really see anything. I—I can't read that far. All I can directly read are emotions."

Denya frowned. "But what about Micha? You read the activation word for the Viewing-Globe from his mind, right?"

"Only because he was mentally screaming in fear that you would figure it out."

"All right, so you read Leafy's emotions," Denya said. "Why should that scare you?"

"It was strong, like I could physically feel it," Caled tried to explain, though words really could not. "I...I think it was like a mixture of hope...and fear."

"Hope and fear? Odd combination."

"He was hoping I'd accept his apology," Caled went on, "but at the same time, I think he was afraid the chance I'd turn it down in his face." She shrugged. "Anyway, don't tell," she said again her eyes pleading with her Elven friend. In the month that had transpired--though she got mad whenever Denya wound openly flirt with Legolas--she and Caled had become really close, closer than Caled had even thought she could with an Elf.

"I swear," Denya said seriously.

Caled took a breath, still unsure of herself. She had never told anyone of her past, even Gandalf did not know the whole truth, just bits and pieces of what he had seen in her mind. _Maybe,_ she thought, _I should just tell her of the tower….that should be enough…yes…_

"Why do I hate Elves?" Caled said at last, not looking at Denya but focusing on the trees just behind her. "Because I was once at the mercy of Elves." She shivered despite the heat of the water. "I still have nightmares."

---

"You wish to know how we formed?" Auron repeated. He chuckled, "Such a thing comes with a heavy price: the words we speak will not leave this campfire. We must have your promise."

Legolas nodded. Even as he did so, his mind raced. He recalled one of the visions Meryl had showed him. Had it just happened? Could he be sure?

The others exchanged looks, with the exception of Darin, who stared intentionally at the fire, avoiding everyone's eyes. Aurora made a face when she saw that. "Darin," she said in a warning tone, tossing a bag carefully between her hands.

He shot her a look, saying through gritted teeth, "Do what you will, I don't care anymore!" He then turned his gaze on Legolas, who was shocked at the intense emotion he saw there. "Just keep in mind," Darin said, "I'm no longer a part of Mirkwood. I'm not one of your subjects, so you cannot order me. Understand?" He said the last sentence as he gripped his Bo, telling Legolas that he meant it.

"I...understand," Legolas said, more questions running through his head.

"Very well," Anex said, straightening. "Get comfortable, because this will be a very long tale."

---

Silence fell over the spring for what seemed like hours, though it was only seconds. Denya's eyes were wide, disbelief running through them. Caled stared at one spot in the woods, her clenched fists so tight they were shaking.

"I don't know what do say," Denya said at last. "Wow...no wonder you hate them."

Caled nodded stiffly.

Denya nodded. "If I would've known even half of that, I wouldn't have asked." She let out a breath, shaking her head. "You know," she said after a moment of silence, "it's been a while since I met someone who also had nightmares of the past."

At first, Caled did nothing. Then, she raised her head, frowning in puzzlement. "'Also'?"

Denya nodded. A half-smile ghosted across her face, sadness dulling her eyes. "If you think about it…you could say that was when the Guild began. After all, we weren't the Thieves Guild at first. We didn't even have a name. We just…were." She drew her knees to her chest, balancing herself on the submerged rock under her. Her arms hugged her knees and she rested her chin on them. "Clad and I were the first—if you don't count Auron and Aurora; after all, they're brother and sister. It was so long ago……"

----------


	15. Chapter XV Part I: The Royal Identity &...

Chapter Fifteen - Part I: The Royal Identity & The Halfbreed Identity

_"Masks we wish to shed,  
The Masks that kill our former faces."_

The Last Homely House, Rivendell  
about 2,500 years ago

"**_'The tranquility of Rivendell is one that can never be mistaken. It is as if the troubles of Middle-Earth never enter the area, where weary travelers can rest for a while from their journeys without fear. A tiny corner of the world untouched by war. A small testament of what it was like before the One Ring was forged. Possibly the only place left that is a reminder that peace will be ach--'_**"

/BONK!

"**_OW!_**"

"**_'--achie--'_**"

/WHAP!

"**_HEY!_**"

"**_'--achieve--'_**"

/BAP!

"**_OUCH!_**"

"**_'--achieved--'_**"

/THUNK!

"**_WATCH IT!_**"

"**_GRRR! Denya! Will you stop it?_**" the young Elven child shouted, looking up from the book she had been attempting to write in. Her emerald green eyes flashed in annoyance.

She was seated on a ledge overlooking the courtyards. Beside her was an Elven child her age, eyes a shining green and hair matching the pitch-black hue of her friend's own. She grinned, tossing a small rock back and forth between her hands. "**_Come on,_**" she said. "**_You throw one._**"

The other frowned, glancing over the side to the courtyards. "**_But I would hit someone,_**" she said, motioning to the various Elves glaring at them, rubbing their bruised heads and muttering curses under their breaths.

"**_That's the whole point!_**" Denya reared back and threw one, cheering when it hit the back of someone's head. She held out another one to her friend, saying, "**_Just one. Come on, Evan. It won't hurt them. Too badly,_**" she added with another grin.

Evan sighed, knowing it was useless to argue when Denya had made up her mind. She placed her book to the side and stood, timidly taking the rock. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and hurled the stone.

"**_Nice one!_**" Denya said, watching the rock's flight. Her congratulating tone brought a smile to Evan's face.

Their merriment was short-lived. Evan's stone had sailed through the air, until it struck a certain dark-haired Elf, who turned and shouted, "**_DENYA! EVAN!_**"

"**_EEP!_**" both of the young girls squeaked.

"**_Run!_**" Evan ordered. "**_It's Uncle Elrond!_**"

---

"**_...and further more, I am disappointed in both of you._**"

Elrond's voice droned on in the two Elves' ears, who tried to look as if they were genuinely sorry for what they had done. Denya, however, was just trying to stay awake and Evan kept waiting for the chance to run. Finally, Elrond seemed to reach the end of his speech. "**_What do you have to say for yourselves?_**"

"**_We are very sorry and it won't happen again,_**" they chorused.

"**_Very well. Denya, you are dismissed._**" She bowed respectfully before shooting off, out of sight within seconds. Evan began to follow, but Elrond caught her by the arm, saying, "**_Evan. One moment of your time._**"

Evan nodded, her eyes wide with worry at what is was her Uncle wanted.

Seeing her distressed expression, a warm smile spread across his face. "**_Do not worry, I am not mad at you,_**" he said.

Evan blinked, unsure. "**_You are not?_**"

"**_No,_**" he said with a chuckle. "**_I am just concerned for you._**" He took by her the hand and they walked out of the room into the open hallway.

"**_Why?_**" she said, noticing the change in the tone.

"**_Evan,_**" he began, his voice turning very serious, "**_do you know about the settlement right outside of the Rivendell borders?_**"

Evan nodded. Of course she knew. She always went to the edge of the borders every chance she could. The solitude of the area calmed her the way nothing else could.

"**_Have I told you about the beings that live there?_**" Elrond asked.

Evan paused, thinking. "**_The 'Berserkers'?_**"

"**_Yes,_**" he said. "**_Evan, I've been told that you go out to the area every so often. Is that true?_**"

Evan lowered her eyes, not being able to hide her embarrassment as she said, "**_Yes, Uncle Elrond._**"

Elrond paused, feeling his niece's discomfort at being caught. He gently lifted her up and sat her on the railing so he could see her face better. "**_Evan, I'm not upset with you. I already told you that. If anything I am very worried about you._**"

Evan titled her head to the side and frowned in a very child-like manner. "**_Why?_**"

"**_Because you go there by yourself,_**" Elrond responded, "**_without anyone to protect you in case a Berserker found you._**"

"**_I can take care of myself!_**" she said fiercely, her face screwing up in what she thought was a stern expression.

Elrond wanted to laugh out loud at his niece's spitfire attitude. So great was the desire he could not help but let a chuckle slip by. He shook his head as he told her, "**_You amaze me, child. Everyday I can see more of my brother in you, though your mother seems to have the greater hold of your personality._**"

Evan grinned, glad to be praised in such a manner. Her mother had been a noble Avari woman, who traveled from her homeland in the East in search of a suitable husband. She had appeared in Rivendell and found one, Elrond's younger brother. They had both died protecting Rivendell when it had been attacked by a band Goblins and Orcs almost a hundred years ago. Evan had only been ninety-seven years old. She could only vaguely remember them, but their words all ways stayed with her.

"**_Just use more caution, Evan,_**" Elrond said, setting her on the ground.

Evan nodded, running to catch up with Denya. She turned a corner, coming to a stop when her sharpened eyes caught sight of something in the courtyard. She knelt down so she would not be seen, pressing her head between the railing posts so she could see better. When she saw what it was, she smiled a happy smile.

---

Denya came to a stop, letting out a breath. "**_I thought Lord Elrond would never stop, eh, Evan?_**" No answer. "**_Evan?_**" she called, glancing around. Her playmate was nowhere to be seen.

Denya shrugged, skipping quietly down the walk to the orchard. She went straight to the peach tree, face puckering in an expression of thoughtfulness. She grinned, "**_Just right!_**" She jumped, grabbing a low branch and pulling herself up into the branches. She seated herself on a thick, sturdy one, looking around for a ripe peach. She found, and picked it, leaning against the trunk. She munched on it, wondering where Evan was.

"**_Denya!_**"

Denya, startled by the exclamation, choked on the bit of fruit in her throat. She started coughing, trying to find the one who had spoken. Her green eyes were met with a pair of laughing, stormy-gray ones. She glared at the young, raven-haired Elf standing below her. "**_Elladan!_**" she huffed. "**_Don't scare me like that!_**"

The young Elf grinned mischievously. "**_I though you were ordered not to steal anymore peaches, Denya!_**"

Denya stopped, a red flush coming onto her face.

"**_I won't tell if you throw me one!_**" he called up.

Denya frowned. "**_That's blackmail!_**" she protested.

"**_That's life!_**" he called back.

Denya rolled her eyes, opening her mouth wide and sticking the peach she had been eating into in, biting down to hold it in place. She looked around until she found a ripe one. Her hand closed around it and pulled, but the stem was stubborn and would not come loose. She grunted, standing on the branch and yanking with all her strength.

It snapped off. Unfortunately, Denya lost her footing and slipped. She fell, unable to catch herself or straightened so she could land on her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the impact that was to come.

She felt something grab her and her fall stopped. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes to find herself staring up into Elladan's worried young face. "**_Are you all right?_**" he said, setting her down and looking over her.

Denya stared at him, surprised that he was so concerned about her. Her cheeks turned a shade of pink. "**_Y-Yes, I'm fine,_**" she stuttered when she had removed her peach from her mouth. Denya found herself fidgeting nervously. "**_Um, h-here,_**" she said, holding out the other peach to him.

"**_Thanks,_**" he said, smiling at her. As he took the fruit, their fingers brushed, making them both jump at the contact. They both stopped, then began to laugh.

A startled yelp, then a few annoyed grunts caught their attention. They followed the sounds and saw Evan on one of the various open hallways of the nearby building, her head stuck between two railing posts. She struggled to get free, but to no avail.

Denya sighed, saying, "**_I guess we should go help her._**"

Elladan, trying to hold back more laughter, nodded, not trusting his voice.

---

Evan winced, rubbing her now released and bruised throat. "**_It is not funny!_**" she said, Denya snickering.

"**_But it is!_**" Denya insisted.

Evan gave her friend a scowl, standing. She looked around to make sure there was no one else beside her two friends, then leaned forward and whispered, "**_I am going out tonight. Will you cover for me?_**" she asked, seeing the surprise flash across Elladan's face.

"**_But...I thought my father said--_**" Elladan started.

"**_Uncle Elrond just told me to be careful, he did not ban me from leaving completely,_**" she said. "**_Please?_**" she said again, silently pleading with her eyes.

Elladan bit his lower lip, not sure what to do. Yet seeing the look on her face, he sighed, raising his hands in a defeated gesture. "**_All right. Just be back before twilight._**"

"**_Thank you!_**" Evan squealed, giving her cousin a crushing hug around the neck. She released him, saying a quick 'see you later' before rushing off to the stables. She looked around in case anyone was there before she went to the stable where her young horse was: Nendili.

The horse was upset from being awakened from his lazy nap, but was delighted to see Evan. She gently stroked his head, whispering in soothing tone. She touched her forehead to his, whispering through a grin she saw reflected in his large, dark brown eyes, "**_Ready to fly?_**" Nendili whinnied softly, tossing his black mane side to side in anticipation.

The ride would have normally taken a few hours. But Evan had always been the adventurous type and she had found an old trail that lead to the forest on the borders a few years ago that cut traveling time to only one hour. Evan loved riding her horse, almost as much as she loved singing. The ground rushing under her at neck-break speed gave her a thrill, but it was nothing like the thrill she got whenever she sang, especially when it was summertime in the dead of night and she was alone.

Almost too soon for her, Nendili began to slow, maneuvering through the trees with ease that came from time after time of coming to this place. When they came to the huge clearing, Evan slid from his back, petting him while telling him not to stray too far. She walked further into the clearing, breathing deep. She smiled, leaning her head back. Slowly, she fell back to the ground, blissfully watching the clouds roll pass in the blue sky. The quietness of the place soon lulled her into a light doze.

Evan started, jerking into a sitting position and looking around. She did not see anything. She shrugged, dismissing it as her imagination, and laid back down. A few minutes later, it happened again. Evan tensed, knowing she was not imagining it after all.

Something was out there.

Evan stood, her hands nervously going behind her and feeling the comforting grip of the throwing daggers she had hidden in her clothes. The knives had been given to her as a birthday present a few months ago from Denya. Denya was extremely accurate with throwing things and did so whenever she could. Evan had started learning from her, but she was a far cry from her best friend.

Eyes and ears alert, Evan turned in a slow circle, straining to find what was out there.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something was behind her!

Evan spun around, hand closing around a dagger tightly as she swung it around to strike whatever it was. She saw a blur of brown and black, then nothing.

"No attack."

The voice was coming from her right. It was low and thick, yet she could hear the youthfulness in it. Cautiously, Evan turned to see who it was.

A young boy was standing just before the line of trees. He had on a tunic, pants, and boots of either brown or black. His hair was a dark shade of red, like blood, and fell to his cheeks. The fringe of hair that surrounded his forehead jutted out in all directions hid his eyes. He appeared to be the same age as Denya—physically at least--but he was sort of bulky and upon second glance he was very tall. Evan started to ease up, but her quick eyes caught sight of something at his neck.

A series of black marks ran up the boy's neck, fashioned like curving blades, the tips of the longest stretching just over his jaw to his cheeks. Evan had only looked for a second before the boy quickly raised a hand cover the marks with his tunic.

"What are you doing here?" Evan demanded in Westron. "Your kind is not supposed to be here, Berserker!" Though her words were fierce, inside she was completely scared to death, wishing she had obeyed her Uncle and stayed at home where it was safe.

The Berserker shrunk back, her words cutting him deeply. "No...no B-Berserker," he said in a soft voice, his broken words confusing Evan until she worked them out.

Evan frowned. "Yes, you are! You are a Berserker!"

"NO Berserker!" he snapped, his voice suddenly rougher, menacing. From behind his hair, she thought she could see his eyes for a split second before they were covered again.

Upon reflex the tone in his voice caused, Evan threw a dagger. She was surprised that the weapon sailed true, aiming to strike his heart. But, with a speed she would not have guessed him to have, he jumped out of the way, landing just a away from her in a crouching position that showed he could easily move out of the way of another blow. Before Evan could register what had happened, a clinking sound caught her ear.

"MOVE!" the Berserker roared. His words had the opposite effect, making Evan freeze in her place as her dagger, having hit a tree, was now hurtling towards her. When she realized what was happening, it was too late to do anything.

Something shot between Evan's face and the dagger at the last second. She heard the sound of the dagger slicing flesh and a grunt of pain. The Berserker tumbled to the ground, cradling his arm against his chest.

"Oh, my--Are you okay?" Evan exclaimed, her worry greater than any fear she had towards him. She ran to his side, reaching out to see his arm. She still could not see his eyes, but she could feel their curious gaze on her.

Evan grimaced, seeing her dagger going through his forearm. Cursing herself for being stupid and rash, she took hold of the dagger's hilt, braced his arm, and pulled it out as fast and cleanly as she could. She was fairly surprised that he did no more than wince. Evan ripped her long sleeves off, tying them around the wound to stop the blood flow. All the time, she was apologizing to him.

"Why, _le_?"

Evan paused, looking up. "What?" While the question was not what she was expecting, the '_le'_ had her puzzling over its meaning.

"Why...why help, _le_?" he said slowly, searching for the right words. "Elf," with his other hand he pointed to Evan. "Elf no Berserker trust. Why help, _le_?"

Evan quickly concluded that '_le_' must be something added to questions. She smiled gently at him, believing he was a bit frightened if he kept asking questions like this. "I cannot leave someone wounded to fend for himself. Plus the wound was my fault." She finished tying the makeshift bandage and stood, heading towards Nendili. The black horse saw her and trotted up to her. She grew worried when she heard the Berserker stand and approach them. She expected Nendili to rear back since he usually did not like strangers.

To Evan's surprise, Nendili not only behaved, he moved up, nudging the Berserker's good hand, saying he wanted to be petted. A faint shadow of a smile appeared on the Berserker's face. He raised his hand, gently stroking Nendili's neck. He whispered words to the horse in a language Evan did not know. It was rough, yet at the same time edged with a gentleness that calmed the young Elf.

"What did you say?" she asked when he had stopped. Evan could not tell if it was his hair or if he was blushing that caused the redness on his face.

Almost self-consciously, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Words," he answered, indicating his throat. Evan was sure now that he was blushing, but for what she did not know.

"Oh," Evan said, nodding. "Your people's language."

"No people," he said curtly, shaking his head and looking at the ground.

Evan frowned. That was the second time he had said something like that. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"No people," he said again. "No kind."

Getting frustrated, Evan was about to demand that he explain what it was he was saying. A sudden gush of wind interrupted her. It was when that she saw what he meant. Hidden under his thick hair, was a pair of ears that mimicked Evan's own in shape. She stared as the wind died down, his hair falling back down to shield them once again. "You are... an Elf?" she whispered.

Inwardly, the Berserker winced. "No Elf," he said through his gritted teeth. "No Berserker. No people."

_He's Half-Elf,_ Evan thought to herself. For some reason, Evan stepped up to him, putting out her hand. "My name's Evan," she said, smiling. "What is yours?"

The boy was startled, not having expected that. Timidly, afraid she would snap her hand back, he reached out and took her hand. "C-Clad," he said.

---

Denya blinked, sitting up in her bed. She looked around her room, wondering what had awakened her. Not finding an answer, she shrugged and laid back down. Just as her head touched the pillow, she heard it. Rocks hitting the stone pillars on her balcony. She rose, quickly wrapping a robe around her, and went to the balcony. She saw another rock sailing through the air. She caught it, looking over the railing to see who it was.

"**_Evan!_**" she hissed quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. "**_What are you doing! You were supposed to be back hours ago!_**"

"**_I know,_**" Evan whispered back. "**_I am sorry!_**" She looked around before saying, "**_Get Elladan and Elrohir. Meet me at Nendili's stable. Hurry!_**" she added. Not giving Denya a chance to reply, she darted off.

Denya groaned into her hand, wondering what had possessed Evan. She quickly exited her room, running as quietly through the halls as she could. She came to Elladan's room and hesitated. _What's wrong with you?_ she scolded herself. _You and Evan have always done this before! Why are you acting like this?_ Ever since that afternoon, she had begun to feel strange whenever she and Elladan were close. She figured the peach she had eaten had not been as ripe as she thought. Convinced that was the problem, Denya opened the door and went inside.

After waking the twins up, the three went to the stables as Evan had told them. They saw her sitting on top of the low wooden door that led into Nendili's stable.

"**_What's this about?_**" Elrohir asked, slightly cross at being woken in the middle of the night.

"**_Evan, where were you?_**" Elladan demanded, crossing his arms and giving his cousin an angry look.

She looked down, saying, "**_I am sorry. I lost track of time. One thing led to another, from subject to subject, we just forget to watch the sun. _**"

Elladan, Elrohir and Denya exchanged a confused glance. "**_'We'?_**" they repeated.

Evan nodded, grinning. She stood on the door, about to jump on the other side, but stopped, facing them again. "**_You have to promise not to tell anyone,_**" she said, her voice so serious it surprised the others. "**_Especially not the Council, or Uncle Elrond,_**" she stressed, looking directly at Elrohir and Elladan as she spoke.

"**_I swear,_**" Denya said, eager to know what was going on.

"**_Sure,_**" Elrohir said.

Elladan, however, was a bit skeptical. He gave Evan a look that said he was not completely sure, but seeing the pleading shine in her eyes, he sighed, "**_I swear._**"

"**_Great! Stay there,_**" she told them. She jumped down into the stable. They heard her whisper something, then the door opened.

Denya gasped in shock, her hands covering her mouth in surprise. Elladan stepped in front of Denya protectively, eyes never leaving the one Evan lead out of the stable. Elrohir stared in surprise.

Evan gave her cousins a sour look, telling them to back down. "Denya, Elrohir, Elladan," she said in Westron, motioning to the one beside her, "this is Clad." Clad nodded, nervous under Elladan's fierce gaze.

"**_Evan?_**" Elladan said, refusing to speak so the Berserker could understand him. "**_Do you mind explaining?_**"

Evan growled softly, "Stop it, Elladan!" Her words surprised the other Elves into giving her their full attention, Clad jumping in surprise. "He will not hurt anyone! For crying out loud, he saved my life!"

Evan told them what had happened in the clearing, occasionally slipping back to Sindarin to reprimand Elladan for his unconvinced scowl. No matter what Evan said, Elladan was still wary of the Half-Berserker, but Elrohir immediately forgot his earlier surprise and welcomed Clad, Denya already starting to like him.

"**_Why did you bring him here?_**" Elladan asked Evan as Denya and Elrohir were showing Clad the different horses in the stables.

"**_I thought you would like him,_**" she said, an accusing tone in her voice.

"**_Evan, he's a Berserker,_**" Elladan argued.

"**_He's also an Elf,_**" she replied.

"**_Half,_**" he corrected.

A cold fury swelled within Evan, which she held down swiftly. "**_So since he is a half-breed we should treat him like trash! Yeah, great idea, cousin, let's feed him to the Orcs!_**" She turned, her full, heated gaze on him. "**_I do not give a Goblin's butt whether he's Half-Elf or not. I would not even if he was a full Berserker. He saved my life when he could have let that dagger make its home in my forehead. He would never hurt anyone, and you know that. Look at him,_**" she said, gesturing to him as the other two brought him to one particular stable. "**_Whose horse is that? Elrohir's horse. And the only reason why that's his is because the beast killed everyone else that tried to sit on her. You know that horse is wild and Elrohir is the only one who can tame her, right?_**"

Elladan nodded, still startled at her outburst.

"**_Look at that,_**" she said, looking as well.

Elrohir had lead the horse out a ways. Normally, the horse would be causing a huge commotion, but she was standing still as Clad stroked her neck, whispering something in his language to her. It whinnied softly, nipping at Clad's shoulder affectionately.

"**_By the Valar,_**" Elladan whispered, not believing his eyes.

Evan nodded. "**_He will do us no harm, Elladan. He is an outcast, not even the Berserkers accept him. The town dog gets better treatment than he does._**"

"**_What about his parents?_**" Elladan asked softly.

Evan's eyes dropped to the ground. "**_I am sure you remember his mother, Elladan. She had been from Rivendell. Her name was Lanore._**"

"**_Lanore?_**" Elladan repeated, eyes wide. He indeed remembered Lanore. A daughter of one of the Council members who had vanished several decades ago. Elladan recalled that she would often watch over him, his twin, Denya, and Evan back then because they were so young. "**_But they never found her. There was no trace of her or what happened to her!_**"

"**_Yes,_**" Evan said softly. "**_No trace was found because there was no struggle. She was not kidnapped, Elladan,_**" her voice was tinged with anger. She had guessed the thought in her cousin's mind, that Lanore had been forcefully taken from Rivendell. Evan did not try to stop her emotions from showing, staring him down with blazing eyes. Elladan quickly turned his head, shifting uncomfortably under her gaze. "**_Lanore and Clad's father wanted to be together, they cared for each other---loved each other! Clad had nothing to do with their actions, though he's a direct effect of them. He has done nothing to deserve hate, Elladan, but that is all he has seen since they died. I thought he would not have to endure that here,_**" she ended, turning and jumping up onto the wooden post of the stable door.

Several moments passed before Elladan said softly, "**_I'm sorry, Evan._**"

Evan gave a grunt, evidently not trusting his words.

More silence passed between them, Elrohir, Denya and Clad unaware of the tension. Then, when Nendili nudged Evan gently and the young Elf slowly began to stroke the horse's nose, she whispered so softly Elladan barely heard her, "**_Why, Elladan?_**"

"'**_Why' what, Evan?_**" Elladan asked, pulling himself up beside her.

Evan looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "**_Why are we like this? Why do we hate someone who cannot help what they were born as? Why do we hate people for just being different? Why?_**"

Elladan had no answer to that.

"Clad go."

The two looked around to see Clad standing just behind them, his face unreadable. Evan jumped down, saying, "But you just got here!"

"Dawn soon," he said. "Elf wake. Clad go."

"Will you come back tomorrow?" Denya asked.

Clad jerked, staring at her in surprise. "Back, _le_?" he said.

"Yeah!" Evan said, excited. "You can come in the afternoon when we're free and we can show you around! Please?" she asked.

Slowly, he nodded. "C-Clad come."

---

Elrond watched as the small, dark figure skirted the walls of the courtyards then vanished suddenly. His face set in a firm grimace, the Elf Lord turned on his heel, stalking away. He did not know what do to in all honesty. He had hoped that Evan would listen to him this once and stay away from the Berserker village. He had told her not to go there for fear of her safety.

Lately the Berserkers had become flippant about the border, often venturing into Rivendell itself. The Council was divided as to what they should do. Should they handle the problem by way of violence or by talk or simply let it be? Elrond himself was unsure yet with each passing day, he grew more sympathetic to the notion that something had to be done.

Elrond sighed, laying on his bed. Perhaps he was being hasty or just paranoid. Things may sort themselves out before long.

Yet if the small figure that had just left, the same that had accompanied his niece inside Rivendell, was any indication, things were going to be rocky from now on.

---

Centuries passed and things did indeed become 'rocky' as Elrond feared. What the Elf Lord had hoped to be a short lived acquaintance flourished into a firm and absolute bond. As Evan and Denya became closer friends, so did Clad. Elladan and Elrohir were both soon called away to attend to duties they had yet remained friends with them as well. The two Elf girls grew into fair maidens, their features almost mirror images to the unaccustomed eye. Evan learned to accept the responsibilities that came with being Elrond's niece, studying alongside her cousin Arwen. Yet when their lessons were over, Evan could scarcely be found without either of her friends.

As Evan learned more self-control, Denya seemed to throw it to the wind. As the days passed and Clad became a close companion, the Elf woman grew angry at those in Rivendell that openly showed their contempt for the quiet being. No matter how hard Evan and Denya tried to reason with them, they would not change their minds. Evan would try the hardest of all, but even her iron will was beginning to see that some people were too stubborn and hardheaded to see the truth.

Clad was now almost two heads taller than Evan and was far stronger than he appeared. He was never violent, in fact neither of the Elves had seen him draw his sword. Still, he was never accepted.

In spite of that, mainly to irk certain Elves that told Clad to his face that he was not worthy enough to be in Rivendell, Denya would periodically bring Clad in anyway, smirking the entire time. And if a member of the Council was up and about, even better. As she said, "**_They need a jump to their system to make sure they're still alive. Besides, watching their reaction at seeing a huge, sword-carrying Half-Elf walking around their home with Elrond's niece and eldest son is priceless!_**"

Yet the three could not ignore the fact that Clad's presence in Rivendell would cause great unrest. They never knew, however, the degree it would extend.

On a day when Clad was not around, Elrond called his niece into his study for an 'important discussion.' Evan was nervous, not knowing the reason for the meeting and mentally going over the past few month's events to see if she had done something that Elrond would reprimand her for. "**_You called, Uncle?_**" she said, entering his study.

Elrond nodded, looking up from a parchment in his hands as Evan approached the desk he was standing by. "**_Evan,_**" he started, his face set in a determined frown, "**_I will get right to the point: I do not, under any circumstances, want that Berserker near you, Denya, or Rivendell. Is that clear?_**"

Evan was shocked, both from the order and the sharp bluntness her uncle used to deliver it. Her mouth fumbled over itself before she managed to gasp, "**_What---Why?_**"

"**_How many times through the years have I told you that he is extremely dangerous!_**" he said, hoping his tone was enough to silence her. "**_I do not want you endangering your life or the lives of the Elves that live here!_**"

For a moment it looked as if Evan would either burst into tears or run from the room. To Elrond great surprise, she did neither. Instead, she threw her hands up in the air and, in an expression that reminded the Elf Lord so much of her late father it startled him, twisted her face into a angry grimace. "**_That is a load of Orc crap!_**" Evan yelled. "**_Tell me the real reason!_**"

"**_That is the real reason!_**" Elrond shouted back, mentally shaking himself. "**_And I am ordering you not only as the Lord of Rivendell but also as your guardian not to go near that Berserker! Quit being childish and do what I say._**"

Evan stared at him, not believing her ears. Her lip curled back in a frightening snarl. "**I am being childish?**" she hissed. She snorted and, with another snarl, she turned on her heel and stomped out, leaving Elrond to wonder if he had done the right thing.

---

Denya smiled, eyes searching for the sky though the peach tree's branches. She was amazed that no matter how old she got, she loved being in this tree. many times, when she wanted to be alone or if she just needed some time to think, she would find herself in this tree. It was her private sanctuary, away from the world.

Her ears heard approaching footsteps. Denya glanced down, tense. She relaxed, seeing it was Elladan. A nervousness she often experienced around the young Elf Lord began to grow in her, making her wish she could climb to the top of the tree so he could not see her. Yet Denya could tell by his expression that he saw her. Wanting to occupy herself, she began to hunt for a ripe peach.

"**_Denya!_**" Elladan called up.

"**_E-Elladan!_**" Denya replied, waving. Her face grew hot as he jumped up next to her on the branch. To hide that, she snatched a nearby peach and began to eat it, hoping he would not see. "**_What are you up to?_**" she asked after swallowing, surprised at hearing her voice sounding so casual. "**_Where is Elrohir?_**"

Elladan shrugged. "**_We were finally able to get out of that stupid meeting and he went to the archery range. I decided to find you._**" He diverted his gaze from her curious eyes, instead looking around at the various blossoming fruits.

Elladan knew she was going to ask what kind of meeting, and truth be told he did not want to tell her. He inwardly sighed. For the past few decades, his father had been putting the pressure on both he and his twin to marry. But much like his sister, he did not wish to marry because he had to, he only wanted to marry someone he loved. And during the whole meeting, his mind kept turning his thoughts to Denya. He long ago suspected that his feelings for her were developing into something more than just friends, he just did not know how she would react if he told her.

Denya could tell by Elladan's body language that something was on his mind so she did not ask what the meeting had been about. She had an idea, though: just as she and Evan were getting suitors by the dozens, she was sure the twins were going through the same thing. Deep in her heart, Denya silently wished the Elladan would want to be her suitor. Even if the marriage would be forced, she would not mind. She wanted only to be by him, like she was now.

Elladan, noticing she did not speak, turned to ask her what was wrong. His voice caught in his throat. She was looking down, nibbling at her peach in thought. The sun broke through the branches, castings attractive shadows across her face. A light wind blew, catching a few loose ends of her dark hair that was done up in a tight braided bun. Elladan knew he was staring, but he could not help it. Right then, she looked more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.

Denya felt his gaze on her and looked up. Her shining green eyes locked with Elladan's stormy-gray ones, clouded with an emotion she had never seen before on his face. Her peach dropped from her suddenly numb hands. A knot formed in her stomach as his eyes held her with their intensity. She stole a glance down at his lips, parted slightly as his breathing was turning deep.

Elladan was mildly surprised when she looked up at him, her gaze turning from curious to heated, matching the fire that was flowing through his veins. Her peach fell, but the look in her eyes made him believe she was thinking of tasting him next. He suddenly found it hard to breathe but he did not want to alarm her, taking slow, deep breaths.

Boldly, he moved forward, the branch barely shifting under him, until there was scarcely any room between them. Elladan was pleased when Denya did not say anything to protest. Slowly, so that if she wanted to back out she could, he raised his hands, gently cupping her face. When she did not move, Elladan lowered his face closer to hers. She surprised him by moving up, pressing her lips against his. Denya's arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer.

As one, both their minds thanks the Valar.

---

Night found Rivendell as it all ways did. Yet, on this night, Denya was too wound up to rest. The day in the peach tree had been almost a week ago. That one week had been bliss. Just thinking about Elladan now send a warm shiver through Denya. She could not remember a time when she had been happier.

She sat up, suddenly realizing something. She had not seen Clad for quite some time. And Evan--well, she had only seen glimpses of her, but still, not much. Evan had become reclusive ever since Lord Elrond had called her to his study a week ago. Now that she thought about it, it had been a week since she had seen Evan's smile.

_I'm going to go find her,_ she told herself, throwing on a more modest dress. She went to Evan's room, but found that empty. Denya searched all the rooms that she thought Evan would be. Nothing. She began to grow worried. She sighed, wondering where Evan could be.

Softly, Denya's ears picked up something. A voice. It was faint, but Denya recognized it. Evan. She followed the sound until she was outside. Her friend must be somewhere in the courtyards. She wandered around, trying to pinpoint Evan's location. She soon came to the huge maze in the center of the courtyards. Having grown tired of searching, Denya jumped up to the top of the large bush, looking around. At the center of the maze was a huge fountain. She could make out the shape of a figure sitting on the rim. Now that she was closer, Denya could hear what Evan was saying, or more precisely, singing. It was a slow song, one that was enchanting even without music. It was a song that Evan's mother had often sung to her. Evan's voice fit the melody to it perfectly.

"**One soundless midday,  
The wind was fresh and clean,  
And the flower petals swayed  
As if they were asleep.  
This serene feeling...  
Tell me, what's the name that people give it?  
Tell me a story that's locked away  
In the white sand of the moon,  
Let me hear it as gently as light shining down...**_"_

Denya slowly approached her friend, knowing something was wrong. Evan hardly ever sang that song unless something was bothering her.

Evan stopped, looking up at Denya as she sat down. "**_Evening,_**" she greeted.

"**_Something wrong?_**" Denya asked.

Evan scowled. "**_Yes._**" She sighed, bringing her legs up to her chest, hugging her knees. "**_Uncle Elrond all but banished Clad._**"

"**_What?_**" Denya gasped. She knew Lord Elrond did not enjoy having him around, but this? "**_When did this happen?_**"

"**_About a week ago,_**" Evan replied. She laughed, grinning at Denya, "**_Of course you have been busy with Elladan._**"

Denya blushed furiously. "**_What the--How did you--!_**" she squeaked.

"**_I may be a bit dense, but I am not stupid,_**" Evan chuckled. "**_So, am I an Aunt yet?_**"

"**_Evan,_**" Denya said in a warning tone.

"**_Kidding!_**" Evan said, throwing her hands up in a surrender motion.

"**_Anyway,_**" Denya said, "**_why did Lord Elrond 'banish' Clad? He never hurt anyone._**"

"**_He said that he was dangerous and a threat to everyone here,_**" Evan said with a snort.

"**_Orc dung,_**" Denya muttered. "**_Clad the gentlest person I know._**"

Evan nodded. "**_But the Council does not think so._**"

"**_Is that why Clad has not been around?_**"

Evan shrugged. "**_I do not know. Some time ago, he told me that something strange was in the air. Something bad. He said it reminded him shadows._**"

"**_Shadows?_**" Denya repeated.

"**_Yes. I asked how he knew, but he did not answer. He said he was going to find out what it was, that was about eleven days ago. I'm getting worried._**"

"**_Did he say where he was going?_**"

"**_To the southern most border of Rivendell. He should have been back by now._**" Evan was silent for a while, watching the water. Then she said in a determined voice, "**_If he does not come back in three more days, I'm going after him._**"

"**_Not alone, you're not, Evan,_**" Denya said.

Evan was silent. Then, hugging her legs to her, she looked at Denya with a smile tugging at her lips. "**_I would not have it any other way, Denya,_**" she said softly. "**_I need you there…to watch my back._**"

Denya returned the smile. "**_I'll be there, old friend. I'll be there._**"

---

Three days came and went. Evan used the excuse that she and Denya wanted to explore the area to get permission from Elrond. He did, only because the Berserker's absence had put him in a good mood. Reluctantly, Elladan agreed to let Denya go while he stayed behind. He was worried about Clad as well, but he was more so for Denya. Evan assured him that she would protect her.

They set out, heading for the southern part of Rivendell territory. They went on for four days, finding no trace of Clad. Denya began to grow worried. Evan just grew more suspicious. She did not tell Denya, but she felt as if they were always being watched. After they had reached the border and thoroughly searched the area, they decided to turn back, thinking he must have already gone back to Rivendell. They had told the twins that if Clad showed up there to keep him there so they would not have to find him again.

A few days on the return trip, as they stopped to rest and eat, Evan became very edgy. Denya noticed, saying with a roll of her eyes, "**_Evan, settle down! There's no one out there or else we would have heard them._**"

Evan grunted, stuffing a lemba into her mouth.

Denya rolled her eyes, placing another log into the fire.

At the same instant, they both froze, hearing the sudden footsteps coming closer to them. They leapt up, Denya grabbing her knives as Evan got in an aggressive stance, holding her sword in front. "**_How?_**" Evan hissed to Denya. "**_How could we not have heard this many?_**"

"**_How should I know?_**" Denya hissed back.

Before Denya could reply, Evan heard the sound of an arrow being strung. Since she was half Avari, her senses were sharper than a normal Elf. Her eyes jerked in the direction it came from, meeting the sadistic ones of an Orc. "**_Duck!_**" she ordered, grabbing Denya and throwing them both down. The arrow sailed just over their heads, killing one of the horses.

As they stood, the small clearing that had served as their campsite was filled with Orcs. Evan narrowed her eyes, dodging a wild blow to her shoulder and slicing the head off the Orc that had tried it. Denya was on the other side, her daggers finding their mark with ease.

Evan grunted, throwing her weight into her swing. Her sword somehow managed to pierce through the crude yet tough armor the large Orc she was facing had on and it fell into a growing pool of its own blood. Evan started to go to the next one, when the sword the Orc had clutched in its dead fist caught her eye. She snatched it up, looking at it intently. She gasped.

It was a Berserker sword.

There was no mistaking the deigns that ran down the blade, designs that mimicked the black marks on Clad's neck. She started to think that this was Clad's sword, but soon she saw that all the weapons that the Orcs wielded were Berserker ones. "**_What is going on?_**" she yelled, slashing through an Orc's head.

Though they fought strong, the number of Orcs soon overwhelmed them. For every one they cut down, three more appeared. Evan was having a hard time focusing over the pain her injuries were giving her. Denya was somewhat in better shape, but still they could not hold off for much longer. Denya noticed that the Orcs seemed to be concentrating on her, only a few were attacking Evan.

There was a sudden lull in the fighting, which Evan took advantage of to catch her breath. Once again, her ear picked up the sound of an arrow being strung. She looked in the direction just as an arrow struck itself in her shoulder. Evan gasped, stumbling. She forced herself not to think of the pain and stood straight. She looked at the one who fired the arrow and froze.

Standing just a few feet into the shadows of the trees was a creature like none Evan had ever seen. It was tall and thin, with glowing light red eyes and a mouthful of small yet sharp teeth. Its hair was tangled and short, black with the exception of the strip that hung down in front. In its thin hands was a Berserker bow and arrow. Its eyes flickered to hers, grinning in delight at seeing her shock, then moved to its next target.

Denya.

"**_NO!_**" Evan screamed. She started to move to knock Denya out of the way.

/**SHRINNK**

Evan fell to the ground, tumbling like a rag doll and landing on her side. She saw an Orc hold up its sword, liking her blood off of it. Evan reached with a shaking hand to her left shoulder. Her fingers slipped on the huge gash that now ran from her shoulder and across to the small of her back. She looked at her hand in alarm at seeing not only blood, but also a black smear: Orc poison. That explained why she could not move.

"**_Evan!_**" Denya shouted, rushing to her side.

"**_No!_**" Evan said, pushing Denya back. "**_Trap! It's a--_**"

Denya jerked as the arrow flew straight into her chest. She gasped, staring down at it. Blood bubbled from the wound, her mouth flowing with it.

"**_DENYA!_**" Evan screamed, her eyes blurring with tears as Denya collapsed to the ground. Blackness began to cover Evan's vision, but not before she saw something.

A tall, muscled figure appeared beside Evan and Denya. The last thing Evan saw was a pair of black eyes flashing in hate and uncontrolled rage that glowed from behind red hair. The last thing she heard was Denya whisper in shock, "**_...clad...?_**"

---

The dark-haired Elf maiden groaned, wishing the dreams would stop. She winced as her injuries made themselves known. She still felt tired, but memories of the fight made her sit up. Clad, was he okay? And..._was she still alive?_

The healer in the room stood upon seeing her trying to get off the bed. "**_Madam,_**" he said, "**_you must lie back down. I'll send for Lord Elrond to tell him you're awake. You've been unconscious for two weeks thanks to that poisoned arrow, but you should be fine now._**"

"**_No,_**" she said hoarsely, her throat dry. She looked around, trying her find her friend. Her mind was racing, trying to find a reason why she was not there, grinning at her and making her laugh at how stupid the two of them had been. When she saw no one other than herself and the healer, fear began to grow inside her. _No! She's still alive! She is!_ she thought.

"**_Where...where is---_**" she tried to speak but her chest throbbed with pain from the arrow wound.

"**_Don't worry,_**" the healer said with a smile, "**_that Berserker is nowhere where he can harm you._**"

She negatively shook her head, glaring at him. "**_No. The other---_**" She stopped, seeing the realization dawn on the healer's face.

The healer bowed his head, saying in a mournful voice, "**_I'm sorry...she's dead. She died before they could prevent it. The poison had already seeped throughout her body---Wait! Where are you going?_**" he called after her, but she ignored him, moving as fast as she could.

"**_No...she's not dead. She's not!_**" she spoke to herself over and over. She stumbled through the halls she knew so well, the halls they had run through together with the twins and Clad. Half supporting herself with a hand on the wall, her other pressed to the arrow wound as the dressing began to bloom red, she forced her legs to walk.

She came to the courtyards, one of their favorite places to go when they were little. Her ears were ringing with the echo of their laughter, just a few short weeks ago at the fountain in the courtyards center. She came to a stop in front of a tree. Her heart constricted in her chest, her lungs refusing to breathe in any air.

Seated at the base of the tree was a tombstone with this inscription:

_The Sky is darker,_

_For one of its brightest Stars have fallen _

In loving memory of

Denya

Evan fell to her knees, hands grasping the front of the simple cotton gown she wore. "**_It's not true!_**" she gasped, eyes overflowing with tears. "**_It's not true! It's not true!_**" She hunched over, sobbing uncontrollably. She repeated those words over and over as if Denya could come back to life if she said them enough.

Evan felt two arms encircle her, hugging her gently. She turned, crying into Elladan's chest. He closed his eyes, fighting back tears of his own. The blossoming peach tree before them suddenly burst to life, the innumerable petals falling down to the ground around the tombstone and the two huddled before it, as if the tree itself was crying.

It was several minutes until Evan was able to calm down. Only then did Elladan speak. "**_Evan,_**" he said gently but firmly, making her look at him in the eyes. "**_Evan, listen to me. A lot happened while you were unconscious. Things you are not going to enjoy hearing. Elrohir and I both tried to talk father and Council out of their decision but we could not. You might be able to tell them what really happened. You can get him back---_**"

"**_What are you talking about?_**" Evan interrupted, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

He took a deep breath, then said slowly, "**_They're saying that Clad attacked the both of you._**"

Those words caused all other thoughts to come to a halt in Evan's mind. Her face was expressionless, but her eyes started to glow blue, a trait that her mother's people had whenever their emotions became so great. Elladan mildly noticed that they must have been doing that during the entire fight as well, because now there were a few permanent flecks of blue in her once solid green eyes.

"**_Where is Uncle Elrond?_**" she asked in a hollow voice.

---

The double doors that lead into Elrond's study were kicked open, rebounding off the walls so strongly that they shut close again, but the intruder had all ready moved into the room.

"**_UNCLE!_**" Evan screamed, searching for him. She had stopped by the healer again at Elladan's request. The majority of her wounds were healing without any problems, but the huge gash on her back was too thick to heal without leaving behind a scar. Evan had no problems with that, though, saying she wanted it to be a reminder of that day. She was now dressed in a loose gown that would not aggravate her wounds, her hair done up in a braided ponytail at the top of her head, two braided chunks hanging down behind her ears.

The Lord of Rivendell came rushing out of an adjoining room upon hearing someone nearly breaking his doors. When he saw it was Evan, he was relieved to see her up and about, he just would have preferred if she was not seething in rage while searching for him. "**_Evan?_**" he said, cautiously moving towards her.

Evan snapped her eyes to him and Elrond froze, seeing the pulsing blue glow in them. In the blink of an eye Evan was in front of him. Her eyes narrowed and she slapped him across the face. He caught himself from falling, staring at her in surprise. "**_What has gotten into you, child?_**" he said.

"**_Exactly who do you think you are?_**" she said, her voice unrecognizable as the one belong to his niece.

"**_Now what are you--_**"

"**_What is this I hear about Clad attacking us?_**" she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting for a reply.

He gave her a look. "**_You know what happened, Evan. He attacked you and Denya when--_**"

"**_Stop lying!_**" she shouted. "**_How can you gather that he attacked us?_**"

"**_Both of your wounds were from Berserker weapons,_**" he said simply.

Evan, however, was prepared for this. Elladan had told her everything that the Council had used against Clad as well as what had happened while she and Denya had been away. "**_The Berserker colony was attacked,_**" Evan said calmly, "**_and all the weapons were no where to be found. Clues say that it was Orcs._**"

Elrond hurriedly said, "**_You were both shot with a Berserker arrow with their poison on it._**"

"**_Berserker poison instantly kills if the weapon draws blood. Orc poison is slow. If it had been Berserker, I would be dead._**"

Elrond was torn between enraged frustration and strange fascination that she was not taking this sitting down as everyone expected her to. Thinking this new found bravo was delirium from her wounds, Elrond said, "**_He was there when our scouts found you. He had you both slung over his shoulders like deer, heading away from Rivendell._**"

"**_Away from Rivendell to his house where he had ample supplies to save us,_**" Evan snapped.

"**_He was covered in blood, Evan!_**" Elrond finally shouted.

"**_Our blood or Orc blood?_**" Evan questioned. Elrond's silence was answer enough. "**_And you called me childish!_**" she said.

"**_No matter what you do or say,_**" he said, "**_it won't change his sentence._**"

Evan froze. "**_Sentence?_**"

"**_I warned you how dangerous he could be, Evan,_**" he said gently. "**_This is for the best. The Council voted and all agreed that he could never be allowed the chance to harm anyone again. It will all be settled in the morning, you shall see._**" Elrond expected her to blow up, to scream obscenities at him, maybe even slap him again.

Elrond did _not_ expect her to grab him by his long hair, yank him to the floor, pin his arms down with her knees, and flick out a dagger she had hidden in her sleeves. Evan held the dagger to his throat, just beside the jugular vein. He stared at her, fear behind his eyes. She looked down at him, her face an icy mask. "**_Wh-What are you doing, Evan?_**" he demanded.

"**_What did you do?_**" Denya said in a cold tone.

"**_What?_**"

"**_What did you do?_**" she asked again.

Elrond swallowed with some difficulty. He could tell from her icy expression that she knew perfectly well what he had done. Yet Evan wanted him to say it. She wanted to hear it from his own mouth. She wanted to see him give in and obey her demand.

And the knife was doing an exceptional job at convincing him to give in.

"**_We---I,_**" Elrond hastily corrected himself at her flinch that jerked the blade closer. "**_I decided that he was too dangerous, Evan. He…he will be put to death at dawn._**"

Evan made no move, no indication that she even heard him. Then the glow in her eyes grew to an alarming brightness.

"**_Release it._**"

The soft, low hiss could barely be called a voice. The fact that it came from his niece sent a shiver down Elrond's spine.

"**_Release the sentence,_**" Evan repeated. "**_And don't tell me that you can't because you have the authority to annul any law or sentence the Council makes, Uncle,_**" she said the title as if it was filthy to her.

He tried to protest. "**_But I can't! You know the Council! They would--_**"

Evan pressed the blade of the dagger in, cutting his throat just enough to bleed. "**_Why did the Council jump at the chance to murder Clad?_**" she asked, emphasizing 'murder' with a snarl.

Elrond did not answer.

"**_Was it because he's Half-Elf?_**"

"**_He's a Berserker, Evan. No matter what his linage, Clad is a Berserker,_**" Elrond said, face grimacing at the term.

Evan's eyes narrowed, pressing the dagger dangerously close to his throat. "**_Do not say his name as if your worthy enough to,_**" she said in a low voice. "**_He has more than proven his worth to me and you are destroying the last shred respect I have for you._**" When he did not reply, Evan said again, "**_Release the sentence._**"

"**_Or else what?_**" Elrond snapped back, her words angering him. "**_You'll kill me?_**"

Evan began to chuckle low in her throat. "**_Kill you?_**" she repeated. "**_No, I have a better plan in mind._**" She leaned closer to his face and whispered, "**_Release it or else I'll make you sorry you did not. Everyday for the rest of your eternal life you'll wake each day, regretting that you did not. You'll wish you could relive this moment, just so you could change your words. I will make you die a little every day with guilt._**" Evan's eyes were now glowing enough to block any other part of her eyes, giving her the look of a demon.

Even with all her words and the dagger pressed up against his pumping vein, Elrond swallowed slowly, then said, "**_I will not._**" He shut his eyes, waiting for the dagger to pierce his skin.

Nothing happened. He felt the blade retreat and Evan's weight left him.

Startled, Elrond opened his eyes and slowly sat up.

Evan stood just a ways away. Her eyes were no longer glowing, but they were still narrowed.

"**_I gave you a chance,_**" Evan said, shrugging, "**_but you cared more about appearances than what the consequences might be._**" She stood straight, pointing at him and saying in a loud, clear voice, "**_You tried to kill an innocent man and refused to lift punishment for the simple reason that you did not like him. You have smeared his name with lies, you have killed the one thing he had left in the world. And so……you have also killed me._**"

Evan's hands raised to the back of her head. Elrond's eyes widened, thinking she would plunge her knife into the back of her neck.

/**SHINK SHINK**

Something soft and feathery hit Elrond in the face before falling into his lap. His eyes widened in shock at what lay in his hands.

Evan's braid.

Elrond looked up at her, thinking she had gone insane. An Elf maiden who had cut off her long hair might as well have kill herself for the long tresses of a woman Elf were sacred.

Evan fingered the new length of her hair, now cropped close to her head with the exception of the two braids by her ears. Her eyes turned back to Elrond. "**_It is not Denya that lies under that grave by the peach tree,_**" she said softly, eyes misting as she said the name. "**_It is Evan. I am Denya. And I cut all ties with Rivendell. I want nothing to do with it._**" She turned and walked out.

Elrond stared in disbelief. He tried to stop her, but he was numb with shock.

The newly self-proclaimed Denya stopped at the door and turned around. "**_This is the last time you will see me,_**" she said, nothing in her expression telling of sadness or grief. Instead is showed calm acceptance. "**_The next time I see your face---_**" She flicked her wrist, sending her dagger across the room where it easily sunk into the ground scant inches from Elrond's hand. "**_---I will kill you._**" She left, ignoring his cries for her to come back.

---

Elladan sat before the gravestone in front of the peach tree, swallowing back his tears. How many tears had he shed the past few days? Not enough to quell the ache in his heart. He stared at the stone before him, at the name engraved at the bottom. The name he had carved with his own hand.

The passing weeks had done little to console Elladan. He spent half his time mourning his love's death and the other half worrying for both Evan and Clad. It had been sheer luck that Evan had awoken this day. Elladan did not want to think what she would have done if she had regained consciousness tomorrow. If how she was handling this single death was any indication, two would have been devastating.

Footsteps reached his ears. He did not look up for he knew who it was. A hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. Elladan covered the hand with his own. "**_Elrohir,_**" he said, turning to look up at his twin, "**_what are we to do?_**"

"**_About Clad?_**" Elrohir asked. He gave a half-hearted shrug. "**_The execution is set for dawn._**" Glancing around to make sure they were alone, he said in an undertone, "**_If we are to do anything it would have to be tonight._**"

Elladan nodded, face set.

---

He knew it was night by the way his cell was blanketed in darkness. The knowledge had no effect on him save for the passing thought of 'Tomorrow I will die.'

Clad leaned his head back, resting it against the wall he was shackled to. His arms ached. He was certain one shoulder was dislocated from how the guard had harshly attached the appendage to the wall. His back as well hurt from the lashes he had been given and the rough texture of the wall behind him. If he could wish for one thing to change his surroundings, it would be for a little space between his aching back and that damn stone wall.

His mouth tipped in a wry smile. He would never wish away the pain nor the injuries he received both from the Elves and from the Orcs.

Clad could only just remember what had happened once Denya collapsed. He could still recall Evan's face slowly being drained of its color and the ragged breathing of Denya growing shallower. After that, he was only conscious of the urge to slaughter everything. Anything in his path was nothing but a target, a perfect chance to destroy, a perfect chance to give in to the mad longing he had been restraining since birth: the longing for death caused by his hand. He had only snapped out of the Bloodlust once there were no more Orcs around.

He had stood in the clearing, staring blankly at the bodies all around. He was dimly aware of a high pitched laugh that slowly died away. Then he noticed the blue and green fabric amid the coarse armor of the Orcs and reality hit him in the chest, stilling his breath.

Clad had fallen to his knees beside the two Elves who had shown him more kindness, more love than he had ever hoped to see in his life. His bloodstained hands had touched Denya's face only to feel the cold caress of death that had settled there.

He had been too late to save her.

His scream of anguish rang in his ears, even now.

It had been Evan's soft moan that brought him back down. She had not died, perhaps he could help her. His home was closer than Rivendell, he could take her and heal her there.

_What of Denya?_

Clad had known he had to bring her back. Elladan would have killed him if he left her.

And so that was how the Rivendell scouts had found him: en route to his home carrying both of them. He had been so close. A little farther and he would have been safe inside and they would not have seen him.

A ghost of a chuckled escaped Clad's bloodied lip. Why lament the past? It was done. He would pay at dawn for not being able to save one of the only people that did not look at him with hate.

/**CRICK**

Clad's pointed ears perked, hearing the sound of gravel being disturbed. He strained to hear more, wondering what was happening. No one should be here in the lowest dungeons, not for another few hours.

There was muffled speech: the guard undoubtedly questioning whoever had descended to this level. Then, in quick succession, a yelp, a flash of light, a thud, and someone's hiss of "**_Hurry!_**"

Quick yet silent footsteps reached him, his heart beginning to pound in sync. Who was it? Who would risk attacking a guard to get this far?

Were they intending to reach his cell?

There was a 'thump' as something collided with the door at the far end of the corridor, leading to the outer rooms. A faint jangle of keys. The lock turning, creaking from neglect. Two sets of footfalls, one slowing and the other growing faster. Then soft leather being scraped across stone, a shadow darting into view on the other side of the iron bars of his cell, skidding to slow down.

Clad's eyes widened, his breath stilling. It could not be.

They stared at each other, each stunned at the other's appearance. Then the one on the outside of the bars stooped to the low door of the cell, fumbling with the keys. Even in the dim light, Clad saw that her hands were shaking. Several attempts and a few curses later, the door clicked open and she dove in, forgetting the keys in the door. She hurried to him, stopping suddenly just in front of him.

Clad stared at her, unable to comprehend what was happening. She was bathed in the soft starlight from the window, the faint light highlighting her pale face. It took a moment for him to digest the view of her without her long hair flowing around her. Judging by the haphazard trim of the locks, she had done it personally and quickly.

"C-Clad?" She was trembling slightly, mouth quavering. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

Clad looked away. He did not want to see pity in her eyes. He would not be able to bear it, not from her. He did not deserve it. He failed her.

His hands were suddenly released as the shackles sprang open. Clad kept his eyes downcast, flexing his hands into fists slowly to work out the tension. He winced, feeling the pain shoot through his injured shoulder.

Slim, pale hands closed over his larger, worn ones. Clad jerked away. She should not be touching him. She should never have to sully herself by touching the likes of him.

"Clad, look at me."

Clad shook his head, drawing his legs up to his chest, trying to get away from her.

Her hand reached out, cupping his torn cheek. Clad flinched yet not from the pain.

"I don't blame you, Clad," she whispered.

Her words knocked the breath out of him again. His head jerked up. She was crying yet there was a small smile on her face. "I don't blame you," she said again, holding his head between both her hands firmly, keeping their gazes locked.

Clad resolutely tried to shake his head. "Clad fail," he croaked, his voice raw from not using it in so long. "Denya…Denya…di---d---" His mouth was unable to form the word. Saying her name alone seemed to pain him.

For a long while, she did nothing. Clad vaguely wondered if she would slap him or leave. But what she did was more shocking than either.

She scooted closer to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her much smaller frame. Her hand gently stroked his shoulders, carefully avoiding the bleeding welts on his back, the other cradling his head to her.

"I don't blame you."

Her words broke Clad.

He buried his face in her shoulder, his chocking cries muffled by the thick tunic she wore. He clung to her, holding her as if she were his lifeline. She held him as she would a scared child, soothing away his fears with soft touches and softer words. He had never felt more safe, more wanted, more……cared for.

They stayed like that, her slowly rocking him until his cries died away. He pulled back, suddenly sheepish. She smile at him and that put him at ease.

Footsteps hurried towards them. Elrohir appeared, holding a bundle. He quickly tossed it in, saying in a hushed voice, "Hurry! The shift change is soon!"

She caught the bundle, unfolding it to reveal a change of clothes for Clad. He carefully pulled on the tunic, giving her a questioning look.

"We're both leaving," she said, face hardening. "I refuse to stay here any longer. And…" She paused, waiting until he finished dressing. "The one who killed her is still out there," she said, voice dripping with hate. She looked up at him, eyes glowing. "I'm going to find him. And when I do…" She suddenly pulled out a dagger and slashed it across the palm of her right hand---Elrohir made a noise of surprise---her now two toned eyes watching the blood drip down to the stone floor. "I will kill him."

Clad felt a chill go down his back. She had made a blood oath, an oath breakable only by death.

She lowered her hand, turning to exit the cell. Clad followed closely. They followed Elrohir and waited as he checked the corridor. It was then he hesitantly said, "Evan, _le_?"

She looked back at him sharply. A smirk tugged at her mouth. "No," she said. "I'm _Denya_."

---

"**_ Are you sure about this?_**" Elrohir asked. He did not want Evan--_No, she's calling herself Denya now!_--to go.

"**_Absolutely,_**" she said, stepping out from behind the tree she where she had changed clothes. She was dressed in Berserker fashion. She had once asked Clad to give her some of the clothes he had out grown so she could made them fit her, mainly to drive her uncle nuts. But those days were gone, and she had no uncle anymore.

They were well outside Rivendell, having just met up with Elladan. He had waited for them, holding their provisions and horses at the ready. He had been silent all the while, watching her. Elrohir stood by his brother, a worried look on his fair face.

Denya looked at them, trying to smile. It was tinged with the tears she was holding back. She crossed to them, embracing them tightly. "**_I will miss you both more than I can say,_**" she whispered. "**_You will always be on my mind._**"

"**_We will always think of you,_**" they whispered in unison, hugging her back.

They parted, Denya attaching her sword to her belt and adjusting it at her hip. Clad stood beside the horse he would be riding, a sturdy brown one with a faint speckling of white. He was watching her closely. When she nodded, he mounted his horse.

Denya swung onto the dark brown horse Hadrim, a descendant of her first horse, Nendili. She reined Hadrim around and faced the twins. She opened her mouth to say something but words would not come. She closed her mouth and urged Hadrim into a run.

Clad paused, then, stunning the two Elves, he unsheathed his sword, holding it before his face. He lightly touched the blade to his forehead then raised the weapon in a salute. Sheathing it, he prompted his horse after Denya.

---

Denya gazed down from where she stood on top of the cliff. The distant Rivendell sparkled below her, the dawn just beginning to break. With a snort, she spat on the ground. She turned Hadrim around, swearing silently to herself never to set foot within that place again. Clad waited, shifting on his horse nervously. No doubt scouts had already been sent out to find him.

"Evan sure, _le_?" Clad asked, still worried about his friend.

"Evan is dead," Denya told him. "I am Denya. Please, Clad," she said, feeling his uncertainty.

To her relief, he nodded. "Denya go, Clad go."

Denya smiled as they set the horses to a quick trot. "Where are we going?" she said through her smile.

Clad was quiet, then, softly, he began to sing, shocking Denya.

"_**I don't know  
What words I can say.  
The wind has a way  
To talk to me.**"_

It was a part of the song her mother had sung to her. She smiled, singing along. Their voices melded together, drifting on the wind that managed to carry it to the twin sons of Elrond, whose hearts were glad because their friends would be fine until next they saw them.

"_**Flowers sleep  
A silent lullaby.  
I pray for reply.  
I'm ready...**"_  
----------

A. N. --Songs are from 'Outlaw Star.'


	16. Chapter XV Part II: The Nomad Identity ...

Chapter Fifteen - Part II: The Nomad Identity & The Fugitive Identity

"_Masks we wish to show,  
Masks that are our real faces._"

The sleepy village was suddenly jerked out of its slumber in the early hours before dawn by an earth-shaking '**BOOM**'. Residents that were fairly new to the area rushed out into the street in alarm as another soon followed. Those who had lived there for quite a while just grumbled, mashing their pillows over their ears in an attempt to return to sleep. When the noise would not cease, half of the village was now up and about. People began shouting over the noise.

"What is that?"

"Oh, don't worry about."

"This always happens."

"What is it?"

"Just that stupid half-bastard and his spells again, just ignore it."

"It sounds like he's trying to destroy something."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"Not only is he a half-bastard, he's half-mad!"

"I say he's a genius. Why, he's made some very helpful spells! Like those that he used on our crops."

"I remember that. We got a hundred times more than what we were expectin'!"

"That does not change the fact that he is dangerous! He'll kill us all if we're not careful!"

In all the commotion, it was startling when a young woman burst onto the scene, running around all the people out in the streets, hefting a large bag with her. Several people saw her coming and moved out of the way, letting her pass. A few had looks of awe on their faces, but most of them had looks of disgust, yet everyone's expression shadowed fear above all else.

---

Several fireballs flew from the young man's outstretched hand, flying out and engulfing the once green meadow. The grass caught on fire, the flames spreading yet they were controlled. The angry orange flames stilled their assault, pleasantly charring the long blades of grass. The young man's brown eyes were narrowed as he concentrated, keeping the flames within that area. Sweat ran down his face from long hours of spell casting and experimenting, clumps of his brown streaked blonde hair sticking to his handsome face.

Soon he cut off the spell, extinguishing the fires. He let out a deep breath plopping down on the hill he had been standing on for the past three hours. He laid back, closing his eyes and recovering his strength.

The young man had heard her coming long before she made her presence known. The applause she gave him caused him to smirk as she said, "Nice. Only half the grass has been burn yet no damage to the ground itself. Very impressive." He cracked one eye open as the girl sat down beside him, setting the bag down with a loud thud. She sighed, digging through the bag before pulling out a loaf of bread. She broke it in half, tossing the larger half over to him.

She sighed again, running a hand through her reddish-blonde curls, her eyes meeting his, both identical in color. "They were doing it again, Auron," she said in a quiet voice.

"Which was it this time?" he said, rolling his eyes as he bit into the bread. "Were they saying I was insane or were they calling me 'half-bastard' again?"

"Both actually," was her quiet reply. She nibbled on her bread then said, "Why do they do that? They call you that, yet treat me like some kind of angel."

"That is because you take after Mother more than I do," he said seriously. "You forget, Aurora: these people hold Elves in high regards. That is the only reason the majority of the village tolerates us. They over look the fact that we have the same blood in our veins because I appear more human and treat me like any other weird spell caster." He was quiet for a second, then said in a soft voice, "We may have to leave if they decide to act on their fears."

"Humans are fools," Aurora stated, ripping into the bread with a sudden ferocity behind her normally calm eyes. While Auron was the one who usually saw things clearly at first glance, Aurora took a while before she understood most things. The exception to this was humans. Aurora understood them too well for her tastes. Elves were not far off either. "They either hate you or love you," she mumbled. "And they only tolerate you if they believe they can get something from you to benefit themselves."

"You'll learn to deal with it," Auron said, standing. "Come on, it's about time we get back. Sarah's going to have our heads if we're late."

Aurora rolled her eyes, yet she was grinning as they walked back into the village. She tried her best to ignore those who stared at them with various emotions. Though the majority of the village was like that, there were a few that genuinely treated Aurora and her brother like normal people. Sarah was one such case.

Sarah was a woman just out of her forties. Her hair was black and streaked with gray. Her eyes were a laughing blue that made anyone who looked into them want to smile. She had been born in the village and she knew everything that happened in it. She knew how to get her way and who to please or kick in order to get it. Aurora was still surprised that Sarah had taken them in so many years ago. Aurora still smiled whenever she thought about it.

-

It was a chilly day in early winter, just after a heavy rain. Auron and Aurora had been living like nomads for the past few centuries after their father had died, not wanting to become attached to any one place for long.

Their way passed a village so they decided to skirt around the borders, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. As the ground became increasingly wetter, they saw that the village had suffered a heavy blow from the rain. The mud in some places was so deep that large groups of their cattle were stuck. The villagers were trying to get the cattle out, with no such luck.

Auron watched them for a moment before hurrying his pace, saying to his sister, "Let's hurry on through. This could be trouble."

Aurora nodded, pulling her cloak tighter around her, making sure the hood hid her ears from view. Too many times had they gotten into fights with overzealous men over her looks and Elven ears.

They tried to be quick but some of the villagers saw Auron. They stopped him, saying, "You look strong. Could you help us out here? We'll pay with food and lodging for the night."

Auron said nothing and continued to walk away. They stopped them both again, repeating their question, but Auron coldly shrugged them off, Aurora keeping her eyes lowered.

A group of children was playing nearby. One of them, a young boy, declared, "I'll help you, Father! This stupid stranger's not any good." The boy's father ignored him and the boy took that as a sign that he could.

Aurora watched the boy, tugging on Auron sleeve for him to slow down. "Ignore them, Aurora," he said under his breath. Aurora turned away from the boy reluctantly.

The boy went for the largest bull he could find and tried to push it out. The hole was deeper than he thought and the boy slipped, sinking into the mud along with the bull. The boy cried for his father, but was too far away. Auron and Aurora heard him and rushed to the boy. They got there just as the boy had sunk in over his head.

"Hurry, Auron!" Aurora cried, her eyes wide as the air bubbles ceased their ascent.

Auron dove into the mud, hands searching for the boy. He finally found him and with a great effort against the mud hole's suction pulled the boy out. Auron handed him to Aurora and she quickly set to work clearing the mud out of his mouth and forcing air back into his lungs. Just as the boy regained consciousness, his father and a few of the others came running in.

Aurora helped the boy up, saying, "He's fine, don't worry--"

She got no further as the father struck the boy across the face, shouting, "You stupid idiot! You made our best bull drown! Now how are we going to get food on that table?"

"I-I'm sorry!" the boy stammered, tears falling down his face.

"And you!" the man screamed, turning to Auron. "Why'd you let that bull drown? You could've gotten it out!"

Auron said nothing, merely shrugging off his soaked cloak.

"Think you're too good to answer? Huh?" The man began to advance on Auron. Aurora swiftly rose to her feet, hands feeling for the small bags of combustible powder she had hidden in her clothes. She bit her lip, hoping the bags would not disintegrate before they struck the ground, thereby ruining any chance of exploding.

"Can it!" a sudden voice shouted above everyone else.

The men turned, seeing a young woman standing with her hands on hips, a scowl on her face. "The bull was old, anyway," the woman declared, marching right up to the man, bracing her feet apart. The man opened his mouth to reply, but was caught off-guard when she punched him square in the jaw.

Aurora heard the distinct sound of a bone breaking as he fell back from the force of the young woman's blow. The young woman snorted, tossing her black hair back, "It was only a matter of time before it died. Not get over there and get the other animals out. And if I hear you hit your boy anymore, I'll make you wish _you_ drowned in the mud!"

The man looked as if he wanted to say something back, but the woman's punch had broken part of his jaw. He stood shakily, walking away and taking his boy. The others followed him. The woman turned to the Auron and Aurora, saying, "I'm sorry about them. They're heads are thicker than anything you've seen."

"Don't worry about it," Aurora said. Auron had already taken her by the elbow, leading her away.

"Please wait!" the young woman called, catching up to them. "Let me make it up to you," she said. "You two can stay at my house for the night."

-

That had been about thirty years ago. For the first few months, every time Auron and Aurora would try to depart, Sarah somehow managed to convince them to stay. Auron and Aurora were touched by Sarah's generosity and the fact that the woman enjoyed their company. Before long, they had become Sarah's family.

After their third year with her, Auron built on to Sarah's house, turning it into a huge, two-story house with six rooms on ground level in addition to a master bedroom, a kitchen area separate from the dining room, and a large den--Auron said that he and Aurora would occupy the top level while Sarah and her future family would take the lower level.

When men had come to court Sarah, they had to go through the two siblings, who both had high criteria for the man who would one day marry Sarah. Soon though, a suitable man came calling, one that not only met the two Half-Elves' criteria, but Sarah's as well: he was friends with the siblings. Even though they wanted to move out after she had married, Sarah insisted that the two stay longer, which they did. To her mild surprise, she had exactly six children. Sarah would not leave Auron alone about him having precognition abilities. Every time she did, he smiled and shrugged, his eyes twinkling.

Aurora was brought out of her reminiscing by several sighs. She inwardly groaned as they passed a group of squealing girls, a brave one calling out to Auron loudly. It was like that with every generation: girls would swoon over Auron and his looks, boys were the same with Aurora. But when they got older, they became like their parents and hated them, fearing the part of them that was Half-Elf.

They pushed on ahead. Sarah's house came into view. In the yard, her two youngest children were playing. The older one, a boy of about six named Ken, saw them coming and ran up to Auron, cheering, "You're back! You're back!" He raised his arms up, wanting to be lifted up. Auron did so, tossing him into the air and catching him to make him laugh.

The other one, a girl just a year old, crawled towards Aurora, who smiled, carefully picking the babe up and saying, "Gloria! How are you, sweetie!" Gloria squealed, waving her chubby arms before giving Aurora a hug around the neck. Aurora smiled as she gently hugged the infant's back, hoping they would not have to go as Auron thought. She turned as the door opened, Sarah stepping through.

Sarah shook her head, saying, "What am I going to do with you two?" She did not say who she was talking about: her children or Aurora and Auron.

Auron shrugged, setting Ken on his shoulders. "What do you need us to do today?" he asked, wincing as Ken tugged at his hair.

After scolding Ken mildly for doing that, Sarah said, "Not much. I really just need you two to watch out for the kids while I get some things I need from market."

"All right," Aurora said, laughing as Ken grabbed two fistfuls of Auron's hair and yanked when Sarah was out of hearing range.

---

The marketplace was packed, everyone surrounding a man that stood on a large box, shouting so everyone could hear him. He was talking about Auron.

"He's taking his spells to the next level!" he said. "What do you think he's planning to use them for? Against us, that's what! I say we take care of him!" A few of the people shouted words of agreement, yet most were unsure.

"How could we do that?" someone asked.

"We kill him, that's how," the man said, brandishing a pitchfork.

"Yes!" a young man said, jumping up next to him and holding a shovel. "We should kill the half-bastard. He's a threat to us all!"

Another cheer was interrupted by someone in the front saying in a calm voice, "Sure, let's kill the half-bastard. After all, he's only saved our lives a countless times."

The lead man eyed the one who had spoken. "What are you talking about?" he said in a tensed voice.

"Remember the time we were attacked by bandits?" A slow murmur ran through the crowd as they recalled the event. "Who was the one that killed them? He did. And if it wasn't for that sister of his, half of our children would have been sold by the few that got away."

"Th-that's beside the point!" he replied. "His spells are the main reason he should be dealt with! They're dangerous. It won't be long before someone gets hurt."

"Oh, really? He doesn't even use them within the village, he always goes out to that meadow, far from anyone, so how could he hurt anyone? And are these the same spells that he used to regrow our crops after that fire that burned most of the land? He's even helped us when we had that drought a while back by producing water we could drink. Yes, let's kill him off before he makes us the richest village in the area--Oh, wait! We already are!" These words had made the crowd begin to shout in agreement.

"She's right!"

"He may know destructive spells, but he's come through for us before!"

"He never asks for any pay when he helps with harvest!"

"He helps out even if we don't ask!"

"His sister's a blessing. She's saved us some all sorts of fatal ailments!"

Sarah smiled outwardly as the crowd when on and on, seeing the good that Auron had done. A chuckle escaped her as she slipped back into the crowd, needing to finish her shopping before her family became worried. Outwardly, she appeared in high spirits. Inside however, she was secretly hoping they would not remember the bad he had done.

Yes, he had helped out after that fire. But he was the cause behind the fire.

Yes, he produced drinkable water during the famine. But he had caused the drought with a wayward heat spell.

Auron was not a dangerous person. She should know, she spent so much time with him. Yet she could not deny that he had a dark side to him. But, even through that, she would stand beside whatever he did because he had always been there for her. She would never turn on him even if these ingrates did.

---

The man from the market scowled as he opened the door to the house of one of the wealthiest men in the village. He went through the vast corridors, rudely brushing past servants and maids, to the conference room. All heads looked up from around the long table, every seat filled, every face expectant. He shook his head as he took spare chair on the side of the room, saying, "No good. They kept talking about all the 'good' he's done. Then they started arguing about whether or not they should start paying compensation for his deeds."

The owner of the house frowned, rubbing his aching temples. "What does it take?" he said, frustrated.

"He's been the bane of our existence since he came!" an elderly man exclaimed, who look as he if was on death's door.

"If mobs won't work, what will?" one thought out loud.

A knock was heard on the door. A maid walked in, wheeling a tray in. "Sir, I brought your tea," she said. She kept her eyes hidden under the edge of the uniform cap she wore, her hair piled under it out of the way.

The man nodded, gesturing for her to serve it. He did not care if the maid heard, for he had no reason to hide what he thought of the two Half-Elves.

When the tea was served, they continued to talk as they drank it. Different ideas were passed back and forth. Only one seemed likely to work.

"A legal execution?" one repeated. "How?"

"We need to find something to convict them of. A crime of some kind," another replied.

"They have done nothing in their decades here to even hint they were capable of breaking the law, so how?" the owner of the house responded.

Silence, then, "We could set them up," one said hesitantly.

"Frame them? For what?" he replied. "It can't be theft; Auron's logic is too sharp for that. Treason is also out of the question. The only thing left with the death penalty is murder. How do we frame them for that?"

"If we hire someone from outside the village, a wizard possibly, we should be able to--"

/**THUNK**

Everyone tuned to the source of the noise. They stared at the old man, slumping in his chair and halfway laying on the table. The one closest to him slowly raised his hand to check his pulse. "He's dead," he said, shaking.

"Natural causes," the man said, though he looked worried.

Suddenly the one beside the dead man jerked, gasping for air. His hand clutched at his throat before he fell to the floor, dead as well.

The owner of the house started to stand, but sudden pain ripped through his chest. He stumbled back into his chair. He could see the others, all grasping their throats, choking for air. "H-How?" he gasped out. His eyes jerked to something rolling on the table: an empty teacup. "Poison," he whispered.

A low, cold chuckle moved through the air. The man turned towards the sound. The maid broke out into a chilling laugh, saying, "You honestly believed you could kill Auron? That's a laugh!" She pulled off the cap, her reddish-blonde curls falling down.

If he had had any breath, the man would have gasped. He was so stupid not to have noticed it was her. He had wasted countless hours of his youth staring at her, wanting her. The Half-Elf had haunted his dreams so often he knew her face completely. And now that flawless face was twisted in the most sadistic light he had seen, sending a shiver down his spine.

Aurora grinned, walking over to the man. She leaned down, whispering into his ear, "You should never have tried to mess with my family. I will always correct that mistake." She pulled back up, tapping his forehead.

"Wh-Why?" the man choked out. He went still, eyes glazing over.

Aurora looked into those eyes, her own burning with a dormant flame of hate within them. "Because you tried to take away the only thing I have left in this world," she said in a level voice. She closed his eyes, looking over the others to make sure they were dead. Her fists tightened as she swore, "No one will hurt my brother. No one will ever cause him any harm in any way." She let out a deep breath.

Giving the room another look, Aurora went to the windows. "So long!" she said, looking back on the room of corpses and waving. She reared her fist back, slamming it into the window to shatter the glass. She leapt through just a real maid knocked on the door.

---

Sarah climbed the stairs leading up to the second floor of her house. Downstairs the rest of her family was gathering, washing up for the night meal. She smiled, wondering which Valor had smiled upon her and gave her this life. She went to knock softly on the door of Auron and Aurora's floor.

Before she touched the door, Auron opened it, grinning. She was startled, but made a face, saying, "I will never get use to you and your hearing."

"Come on in," she heard Aurora call. The girl was sitting at a low table, various bowls, flasks, and vials spread out on the table, mixing and measuring different amounts. In her lap, Gloria sat, blinking as if she had woken up. "She was just asleep," Aurora said, setting down the bowl in her hands, wiping them clean before handing the child to her mother.

"Thank you," Sarah said. Her somber attitude made the siblings exchange a knowing glance.

"What's wrong, Sarah?" Auron asked, motioning for her to sit down.

Sarah did so, sighing, "It's getting worse, Auron. Almost everyday, now, I can hear arguments over what they should do. Sooner or later they will find some way to do what they want."

"We are aware of that. Don't worry," Aurora tried to reassure her, but Sarah shook her head.

"Knowing will not solve the problem," she said.

"Nothing can solve this problem except those people out there," Auron said, motioning out the window to the village below. "If they got their heads out of the sand and looked around, they would see that they have nothing to fear. Yet that will not happen."

"I cannot help but fear for you two," Sarah said quietly. "Every since that day you arrived, the village has been suspicious of you. Every year it grows."

"Do not fear for us," Aurora said gently, "you should fear for you and your family. If ever they do find a reason to act on their fears, more than likely, they will also retaliate against you for sheltering us over the years." She smiled as Gloria played with the necklace her mother wore around her neck. It was a circular pendant that had circular designs running across it, creating a complex pattern that hung off of a thick black rope of string.

"When that happens," Auron picked up, his face suddenly deathly serious, "you need to leave so no harm will come to any of you."

"_If_ it happens," Sarah stressed, not wanting to even think that it could, "all you have to do is tell me and we will be gone before you can tell."

The two Half-Elves nodded. Aurora cleared away some of her things, leaving those stable ingredients that would not be affected by her absence. She turned to follow Sarah, nose twitching at the delicious smells wafting through the open door. She paused, noticing Auron was standing quite still.

"Auron?" Aurora said softly. "Coming to dinner?"

Auron head jerked slightly, the only evidence that her words had startled him. "Yes, of course."

Aurora frowned, yet said nothing.

---

Twilight was the optimal time. It was the time between light and darkness, when weary people trudge home from their work, aware only of their need to be with loved ones and rest. The time the shadows lengthened. The time when artificial and inadequate lights were lit.

The time when slipping from house to house unnoticed was best.

He crept, soundless, invisible to those walking the streets. He knew those street well, almost perfectly. He had done this for about two years already. This was his self appointed duty, it had been ever since he had first heard the strange things happening in this village---or rather, the things that did not happen.

When this village had suddenly appeared he almost tried to vacate the area with her, certain that they were the cause of it. Careful thought had prevented the flight though and now he waited. Chances were they would have to fly, and fly fast. Their own standing was growing more sour each day. Any little thing was likely to set off tempers. Yet it all hinged on what was happening in this village, on whether or not he was right.

He resisted the urge to bite his lip. His gut told him something was wrong. His instinct had never failed him before. It was the reason they both had lived this long. It was what got them through even the most dire of circumstances.

And yet he was wishing fervently that it were wrong.

A small noise pricked his hearing, stilling him in mid-step. Just beyond the shadow of the house he was in, a small child stood an open doorway, staring out into the darkening woods that circled the village. The child could not have been older than five summers.

The one in the shadows waited, eyes staring at the child intently, straining to catch any sort of sign. Again, his instincts were telling him that something was amiss, something was _not right_ with the child.

The boy's mother called for him to come inside. He made an agreeing noise, still staring into the foliage. He slowly turned to go inside, his gaze briefing shifting to the shadows.

The child stopped, frowning slightly. His eyes narrowed as he search the shadows for what he thought was there. Again the boy's mother called and at the warning tone in her voice, the child obeyed, shutting the door.

The one in the shadows closed his eyes, hands clenching into fists. A tremor ran through his body, causing him to grimace. As the child had turned, the light from inside had caught the mark on the back of his neck.

The brand of an Orc slave.

So……his instincts were right after all.

_Damn it._

Whispering in a voice so low it was barely a murmur in the breeze, his eyes opened to watch as his right hand was outlined in a pulsing orange/red glow. The glow flared briefly as he touched the wall of his shelter with his finger tips. A glyph shone as he removed his hand, blinking in the pattern he now counted in his head.

Swiftly, so he could both cover more ground and to avoid detection, he moved to the adjoining house. He avoided looking in the window. While the scene inside would not soften his resolve, he knew it may cause his anger to flare, there by hindering a clear mind.

And Auron knew he would need his mind clear for what was to come.

---

In the Pre-dawn hours, the sky surrounding the village was lit with a burning light.

A huge explosion, thousands of times greater than what they were used to, sounded miles away from yet them. An earthquake began as the people rushed out. Everyone was shouting. No one had a doubt in their mind about what the cause was. Someone began shouting, saying it was well past time they do something. For the first time, they all shouted in agreement without debate.

On the outskirts of the village, Sarah rushed outside her house, gasping in horror at the brilliant glow that covered the horizon. Her husband appeared behind her, his inhaled swear breaking her from her daze. Sarah ran back in, ignoring his shout of her name and tearing up the stairs. "Auron! Aurora!" she cried as she threw open the door.

Aurora was sitting on the back of the couch, her back to Sarah, watching the horror through the window. Sarah saw her shoulders rise then fall in a defeated sigh. "This is it," the Half-Elf whispered. "He's really done it now."

Aurora turned, looking at her long-time friend with veiled tears in her brown eyes. "You and your family need to leave. Leave now," Aurora said again when Sarah did not move. "The authorities will be here in a few minutes," she explained to Sarah's silent question. "I don't want to see you or the children in chains. Please, Sarah," she pleaded.

With tears in her eyes, Sarah nodded, backing out as she said, "I don't care what he did, Aurora, I don't believe you two should be punished. He did it because he knew something we didn't. I've never doubted you before, and I won't start now."

Sarah paused by the doorway, drawing out from around her neck her pendant. Without hesitating, she snapped the pendant in two, leaving one half on the table by the door. She looked back, smiling sadly as she said, "Find us. I want to see you two again someday." She took a deep breath, and rushed out the door.

As soon as the sounds of Sarah and her family hurrying away reached them, Auron emerged from the other end of the couch. The smell of burning flesh and wood clouded around his form. "You're sure?" he asked his sister. "We could leave now with them."

Aurora nodded stiffly, rubbing her eyes to hide her tears. She numbly walked over to the table and picked up the broken pendant, tucking it safely into the fold of her clothes. She swore silently that one day she would find Sarah and her family. "What happened?" Aurora asked her brother in a tight voice.

Auron ran a hand through his hair as he said, "I was trying out a new spell idea, and it went berserk. It completely destroyed that settlement a few miles away. Not a trace left."

Aurora stopped, facing her brother and giving him a strange look. "It went 'berserk'?" she repeated. In all her life there was one thing she could say about Auron's spells that was true: he never used any spell unless he knew he could control it entirely. She made a face, crossing her arms over her chest and saying, "That's a lie. What really happened?"

Auron's mouth tightened. His brown eyes gleamed with anger. "I found evidence of Orc activity in the settlement," his voice was neutral, opposite of his scowl. "So I took care of it. The laws say that we have to be tried by their Council, but possibly we will be executed. They might have been waiting for something like this for a while. The trial will be rigged so---"

"What a second? 'We'?" Aurora questioned.

"Yes, we. You're an accomplice."

Aurora curses were heard miles away.

---

It was not long before the authorities tracked them down. They did not resist the arrest, but they were still handled roughly. They were brought to the Meeting Hall, where the Council was assembled.

Auron was correct. It was quite obvious that the entire Council cared little about what had happened for they all had one thing on their minds: executing Auron and Aurora. The Council Leader, a man in his twenties named Michael, openly asked Auron, "Did you destroy the settlement?"

"Yes, I did," Auron answered honestly.

They did not ask anything else, just discussed what form of death they would have. They held them in a prison cell until they decided. "**_Think we'll get out of it?_**" Aurora said in Sindarin so the guards would not understand her.

"**_Just do what I told you,_**" Auron said. "**_Just remember what I said._**"

"**_I'll try,_**" Aurora whispered, squeezing his hand as the guard ordered them out. A decision had been reached.

Public beheading.

Auron was lead out first on the large platform hurriedly built for the occasion, Aurora held just off to the side awaiting for her turn. Their arms were tied securely in front of them and a gag was in place to prevent them from casting spells. A wooden block was set in the front of the stage, near the huge crowd that had gathered. Auron was lead there, forced on kneel down and place his neck on the block. The executioner, a tall man in a black hooded cloak, stepped forward, large ax in hand. The crowd burst into cheers, various people shouting out insults to him as the ax was raised.

Auron jerked his eyes to the side to Aurora, blinking twice. She blinked in response. He held his breath. Aurora kicked the knees of the two holding her back, both losing balance and falling. She just had enough time to reach into her clothes and pull something out, hurling it into the air high above the heads of the crowd. Just as she did so, one man regained his senses and grabbed her, striking her hard across the face.

The crowd watched, horrified at the small bag that sailed down, landing at the very edge of the platform. A fireball ignited, the concussion force from it sending everyone falling down. Aurora sprang up, ripping his bonds apart as he rushed to his sister, both disappearing in a puff of smoke---a bit of flare Aurora added for effect.

As the crowd tried to make sense of what had happened, in the very back of the crowd, hidden in an alley between two buildings, the council leader Michael stood, arms crossed, a smirk on his face the whole time. His eyes suddenly narrowed unnaturally, then began to glow a light red color...

---

A bounty was put on Auron and Aurora of an incredible amount. The order detailed that no reward would be given unless they were together and dead. Despite that, the two continued roaming around while disguising their features with hoods and clothes wrapped around their heads, stopping in villages to refill their supplies. Though she tried to the best of her abilities, Aurora could not find what had happened to Sarah and her children.

Centuries past, until it was six hundred years after the day of their failed execution. They never stayed in a village or town for more than a week, not wanting history to repeat itself. They got by in doing odd jobs, Auron usually the one doing them since he was would cause the least suspicion.

Aurora mainly made deals with any local herbalists or doctors, trading herbs or remedies for essentials. She dressed sometimes in an elaborate ensemble to make them believe she was from a far away land they had never heard about. As the years passed, she became more and more interested in poisons. Though Aurora wanted to learn as much as she could, she needed to find a way to build up a strong immunity to them. She would then inhaled or ingest small amounts of the poisons she was studying, enabling her to handle them without worrying about getting sick.

This caused a strange side effect: Aurora became highly tolerant to alcohol. No matter how much she drank, it had almost no effect her unless it was extremely strong. Auron thought of a way to use this to their advantage. If they were low on money and/or needed a room for the night, they would find a tavern and enter at different times. Aurora would hang around the drunks until they started betting on who could out drink who. After a while, she would find a way to become a participant herself. A few minutes after, Auron would come and place a large amount of money on her opponent. Aurora would act like she was getting drunker and drunker as Auron kept putting more money on the other one. When they knew her opposition was tittering between consciousness, Auron would put all his money on Aurora, and she would down as much as possible. This went on for some time. In fact, it was during such a time that their lives changed.

It was near evening and they had found a target; a combination inn and bar. At first Auron was a little skeptical because they had no really weak drinks and he did not want to endanger his sister's health. She assured him she would be fine and went on, a long piece of black cloth tied in a turban-like fashion on her head to hide her ears.

Auron wandered around the market, then when in after an hour had passed. He acted as if he had never been there before and went to the bar, ordering a drink. His ears picked up the sound of Aurora's giggling voice. He knew from the sound that she was already under way. He waited a bit, then put on a show of wondering what the noise was about and going to investigate. Auron came to a large crowd gathered around a table, Aurora's voice coming from within. He elbowed his way through the people watching the ongoing with interest. He was surprised at what he saw.

Aurora was sitting at a table littered with empty bottles and some that were filled, acting drunk though he knew better, talking in a slurred fashion to the one on the other side. Her opponent was a young woman with long, brown hair and murky brown eyes. She was clad in strange attire: a long-sleeve tunic down to her knees, pants, and an over tunic belted to her waist to keep it together, all either black or dark blue. she was leaning back in her chair, talking like Aurora, one leg kicked up on the table.

"I tell ya what," the woman said, "I ain't never sheen anyone drink like you, girl!" She grinned, throwing her head back as she took another shot.

"That'sh what they all shay!" Aurora said, mimicking her.

Auron took his cue and said in a low but clear voice, "20 pieces on the brunette. Gold," he added to the looks.

"35 on the blonde," a rough voice spoke. Auron's skillfully tracked the source to a tall figure standing near the outside of the group. He frowned. Something was strange about that man...

"Keep it comin'!" the brunette cheered. They continued for a while, the bets building up. Soon, only the strange man and Auron were betting, numbers reaching extreme heights. Once the man said he was betting 300 pieces, the brunette suddenly stopped, raising her head to look at Aurora. This was the first chance Auron had to look at her eyes directly. He was surprised to see that they were clear. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, her gaze never straying. "What do you say to a real contest?" A shocked ripple ran through the spectators as she spoke the words correctly, without any sign of drunkenness.

Aurora, stunned out of her act, nodded. "I accept!" she said, a notable gleam in her eyes.

The woman suddenly grinned. "Bring it on!" she said, grabbing a bottle and chugging it whole, Aurora doing the same. They went through bottle after bottle, neither letting down. Soon Auron could tell that they were both becoming genuinely drunk, not faking, shouting insults at each other to make them lose their focus.

Auron could not tell what had started it, but he thought it had something to do with the bottle the brunette threw behind her when empty. He was sure it had crashed into someone's head, who took it the wrong way and punched the guy closest to him. One thing lead to another and soon the whole bar was in a free-for-all.

It was all Auron could do to grab Aurora and escape to the stairs before they got caught in it as well. He saw the strange man do the same with the brunette. He threw her over his shoulder since she was not capable of walking at the moment, going to the stairs as well. "Room," he told Auron. "Come."

Auron nodded, both in agreement and thanks. The man led him up the stairs to the room he and her partner shared. There were two beds there, where they laid the two semi-conscious women. Auron quickly surveyed the room to see what clues he could get about the identity of these people. He saw their bags laid against the wall, but to his confusion he saw three bags. _Is there another person in their party?_ Auron wondered as he went through Aurora's bag of medicine, retrieving a concoction she made to immediately counter-act effects of alcohol. He gave it to her, then to the brunette. Almost instantly it worked.

The brunette coughed, making a face at the smell the stuff had. "That reeks!" she exclaimed, pushing it away. She looked around and groaned, "I blew it again, huh?"

"Yes," the man said.

"Where are we?" Aurora asked, confused.

Just then, the door opened, a tall figure stepping through and closing the door. It was an old man with long white hair and a beard, bushy eyebrows nearly hiding his twinkling eyes. He was dressed in dark gray robes.

"Well," the old man said, chuckling, "this is a pleasant surprise."

"Gandalf!" Auron exclaimed in shock.

"Gandalf!" the brunette said at the same time. They stared at each other.

"You know him?" they said in unison.

"Of course I know him!" the brunette huffed. "I've known him since before I was born! How do you know him?"

"I have trained under him in spell casting and creating spells as well," Auron said, frowning. "Gandalf," he said, turning to the still chuckling wizard, "what are you doing here?"

"Traveling a ways with these two," he said, motioning to the man and woman. "I had a feeling we would turn into you here. Looks like I was correct."

"What?" the woman said. "You knew and didn't tell us?"

"There was no reason to. Who am I to say if we were meant to cross paths with one another?"

"Just another stupid coincidence," the woman muttered, shaking her head.

"I assure you," Gandalf said, his tone suddenly serious, "this is no mere coincidence. Remember what I told you a few days ago?"

The woman frowned in thought. "You said, 'No one should hunt alone--'"

"'--for there is always another hunting the same thing,'" Auron and Aurora finished, eyes wide. He had said the very same thing to them last them had met each other.

"I believe," Gandalf cut in, "that you four should travel together." He looked directly at the woman as he said, "They have the means to help you in your hunt." He turned to Auron and Aurora, "They are like yourselves and will not desert you."

"Oh?" Aurora said, doubt dripping in her voice, hands on hips, "who are they?"

The young woman laughed, "I like you already!" She reached to her wrist and pulled off a bracelet. Her image shimmered then cleared to show that she had short hair with two long braids from behind her ears, eyes green and blue. "My name is Denya. This is my long-time friend Clad."

----------


	17. Chapter XV Part III: The Innocent Ident...

Chapter Fifteen - Part III: The Innocent Identity

"_Masks we wish to proclaim,  
Masks that are our genuine faces._"

Deep in the forest of Mirkwood's northern area, an unusually large village was located. Perhaps a town would be a better word for it. Activity never ceased there; someone was always doing something, even at night. The King of Northern Mirkwood, Thranduil, was fond of this village and would visit it every so often. It was after an incident involving an Orc attack a little ways down that it was brought to his attention that the ecosystem of Mirkwood needed to be observed, documented, and learned of in case of future attacks so they could use it to their advantage. Because of the village's unique location, he ordered that the base be located there.

Soon a young couple became in charge of the base, Selene and Lando. They were in charge of everything and sometimes they themselves went out to collect any data they needed. They had a child, a charming boy with blonde hair and bright sea-blue eyes. His name was Darin and the entire village loved him. It was apparent even when he was a young one that he was witty, resourceful, intelligent, and kind-hearted to a fault. He would always be seen in the company of his parents or one of their assistants. Unlike most Elves his age, he was already taking on responsibilities that some adult Elves would turn down. He went on every trip his parents did, right beside them as they took samples of everything they saw; from leaves of the highest branches of the tallest trees to the different kinds web the huge spiders spun. He was often found trying to imitate his father, who was his idol. He was soon always wearing a strip of cloth around his head, keeping his bangs out of his eyes, just like Lando. Selene occasionally joked that were he older, she would not be able to tell one from the other.

It came to be when Darin was an older Elf, equivalent to a fourteen-year-old human, he set out with his parents as they did every year to the northern most edge of the forest. It was a routine thing; they had done it since before he was born. In fact, he had been born on their way back from this place. His earliest memories were there, some of his fondest as well.

It was about to be home to his worst nightmares as well.

---

Darin had stumbled upon an old hermit in one of his earlier trips, an ancient one even by Elven standards. His hair and beard had grown so long that it covered any feature that could tell of his Race, and Darin never really asked him so that remained a mystery. The Hermit was glad for the company and Darin's parents were sure that the old one meant no harm.

The Hermit's knowledge was jumbled, pieces of information mixed in with each other, but he was accurate in some things. Folklore was one. He and Darin talked frequently about legends and prophecies of Middle-Earth. Sometimes he would show Darin an artifact that was actual proof that maybe the legends were not just legends at all. Such was the case on that day.

"Old Hermit?" Darin pushed back the heavy drapes that separated the front entrance of the cave and the middle section. A fire was set into the hole in the left wall, the heat making the atmosphere cozy. A fragrance permeated the room, coming from the burning herbs to cover the foul scent of mold. Shelves either made from the walls or attached to them held nick-knacks and other things from all over Middle-Earth. The floor as well had many things scattered on it.

A form shifted upon hearing Darin's voice. It looked like a huge pile of rags and torn cloth, but a head turned around, smiling as it said, "Ah! Darin! Come in, in!" The Old Hermit scuttled across the floor to the fire, lowering a pot onto it to heat. "Old One expecting you, yes, expecting, yes, yes."

"What have you heard now?" asked Darin, smiling. The Old Hermit was usually slow and unhurried. Seeing him running about made Darin anxious because that was the sign that he had either heard of a new tale to tell or he had found an artifact he knew Darin would like. The young Elf waited patiently as the Old Hermit took a long pull from a bubbling mug, draining it down his withered throat.

"Something you will like, that I'm sure of," the Old Hermit said, scooping his mug into the cauldron over the fire. He went over to a nearby shelf, moving around some of the shelf's contents. "Can you recall what we talked about the last time you were here?"

Darin thought for a moment before he replied. "Something about the Ancient world. About the Elves and some artificial mountain, I forgot what it was named."

The Hermit nodded, pulling a long bundle off of the very back of the shelf. It was wrapped with a thick, soiled cloth that was aged and had a musty scent to it. Darin noticed with a start that one half of the cloth had stained spots of what looked like blood. He eyed the bundle as the Hermit laid it beside him while taking his seat.

"Good enough, good enough," the Old Hermit said, nodding. "The Mountain was only known as the Unmanned Fortress, for no one knew who had constructed it or the enormous Tower built inside it. Records from the first inhabitants of Middle-Earth are said to be hidden there. Do you remember why the Elves are connected to this particular mountain?"

Darin shrugged.

The Old hermit paused for a second, checking the pot that was near the fire. He took a deep breath, and began. "Some say it was a War started over a simple disagreement. Others say that a group of radicals protested against their way of life. And still, some say that it was a sheer accident. But no matter what it was, a spell that was more like an explosion was fired, changing three-fifths of the Elves that had crossed into the West for all time. They were changed, not only in appearance, but also they were granted power over the elements that the spell was designed around. Those powers are what prompted them to be called the Shadow Elf race, for they are nothing but shadows of what they once were. Because they were feared, the remaining Elves cut all ties, banishing them up to the North. They took refuge in the Unmanned Fortress as they sought lands that were not taken yet for their own."

"Are they still in the Fortress?" Darin asked, eager to know more.

"No one knows for certain. There is talk that they died off," said the Hermit, pulling the bundle into his hands. "The other day, a man passed through and asked for a place to sleep for the night. In return, he gave me what he called a 'rusted, useless weapon' he had found buried in a pile of rubble." As he said this, the Hermit removed the cloth, revealing a sword in its scabbard. The scabbard was a rusted brown color, metal designs that ran down its length in pieces. The hilt of the sword was wrapped tightly in a thick leather casting, a belt looped around the scabbard keeping it from coming off. "This," said the Hermit, carefully handing it to Darin, "makes me think that maybe they're still alive. Take it out."

Darin took the weapon, working the belt loose so the sword could be released. The casting was taken off to reveal a hilt made entirely out of a brilliant silver with deep blue jewels arranged in an eye appealing pattern all across it. Darin stared at it for a moment, thinking that there was no weapon maker in all the King's Court that could create a beauty like this. He pulled the sword out, carefully so he would not damage the crumbling scabbard. When it was drawn, Darin stared in awe at the sword. It was light in his hands, the blade a hair thinner than normal ones, and was double-edged. Runes which he was certain were of an ancient tongue no longer known ran down one edge. The firelight reflected off its smooth surface, casting beautiful shadows on it.

"What do you think?" asked the Hermit, smiling at the expression on Darin's face.

"It is like no sword I have ever seen," said Darin, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why did he just give it to you? Did he ask for more in return?"

The Ancient One chuckled. "He never took the sword out of the scabbard, and neither did he unleash the hilt. For that I am thankful, otherwise I would never have come to own it."

"How do you know this sword is a weapon of the Shadow Elves?" asked Darin as he began to put the sword back up.

"Those jewels as well as the Runes," he replied. He leaned over pot as he raised its lid, frowning at what he saw inside. "So soon," he muttered to himself before turning back to Darin. "Darin, you need to go back to parents. Quickly," he added when Darin blinked, surprised as the Old Hermit's voice had aged with each word her spoke.

"Why? I just got here."

"No questions, do Old One's word! Time escaping, fly, fly!" said the Hermit, a tense tone in his old voice.

Something behind the words made Darin grow fearful. He nodded and stood, saying a hasty goodbye over his shoulder as he exited the cave.

The Old Hermit sighed, looking back into the pot. The powders he had thrown in just before Darin's arrival had shifted together due to the spell's workings. He could see Darin, running as fast as he could towards the campsite he shared with his parents. The Hermit shook his head sadly. He knew, just as he had always known since the day that he met Darin that the young Elf would be too late.

"No running from fate, too close, too far, no running," he said to himself. His hand rested upon the hilt of the sword, his eyes misting. "Darin return soon. Darin return far. Others like him, like Darin," said the Hermit.

A blue glow pulsed from inside the leather casting in response to the words.

---

Darin ran over the ground faster than he had ever done before. Worry began to claw at his mind, making him push himself harder. He prayed nothing would be wrong when he returned to the camp. He cleared the remaining few feet, pushing past two large bushes, and stopped so quickly he nearly fell over.

The campsite looked as if someone had taken a blade to every inch of it. Shredded pieces of fabric, torn equipment and the heavy stench of blood were everywhere. His eyes widen in surprise at the large puddle of blood he was standing in. Darin choked back a cry when he noticed what lay in the puddle. Though it was partially hidden by leaves and mud as if it had been kicked around and it was dark, the branches of the trees casting shadows in all directions, he was able to tell what it was.

A head. With long golden tresses unmistakably belonging to his mother.

Darin had no time to let the building sobs in his chest go for he heard a scream off into the trees at his right. He knew at once it was his father and rushed, not even thinking about what he would find. "**_Father!_**" he shouted, his eyes searching for any sign of h--

A ripping sound came from above before something landed with a sickening **_SPLAT_** in front of him. The young Wood-Elf froze, not daring to look down, as he felt a thick liquid dripping onto him from somewhere above. It ran down into his face. The smell was clear, it was blood, but where it was coming from Darin did not want to know.

"Afraid, little one?"

Darin jerked, his back now against a tree. He searched for the source of the raspy voice. In doing so, he saw what had been dropped in front of him. Darin's hands flew to his mouth, trying to hold back his stomach's contents. Lying in the grass, was the top half of a body, mutilated almost beyond recognition. In the dim light he could see a strip of cloth that had once been pure white, now stained with blood.

"**_No!_**" Darin shouted. "**_No! NO!_**"

"Yes, yes, and yes!" the voice replied a smirk evident. A rustling came from the tree Darin was leaning against before a dark form jumped down before the Elf. At first glance Darin thought it was an extremely tall and thin Elf but he soon saw this creature was nothing of the sort. Its skin was dark blue, its hair black with a stripe of light red in the front. It was grinning, showing sharp teeth. In its hand, was the remaining half of Darin's father.

Upon seeing the corpse, something in Darin broke. His eyes narrowed, nauseous and tears forgotten, and he let loose a shocking scream. He launched himself at the creature, managing to tackle it to the ground. All thought left Darin's mind as he tried to the best of his abilities to kill this monster. He ripped out the dagger he kept for self-defense, set on shredding the murderer into pieces.

The creature smirked, easily dodging Darin's wild slices and getting out from under him. "Is that all you got?" the creature taunted. It continued for a while, until the creature stopped, titling its head to the side as if listening. It caught Darin's arm, sharp fingers sinking into his flesh, and threw him down, knocking the wind out of him. "Good luck," it said, snickering, before it stepped into the shadows, disappearing.

Darin struggled to get up, trying to suck air back into his lungs. When he saw the creature was gone, grief washed over him. He sat there, numb, for who knows how long before he heard approaching footsteps.

Darin did not notice the Elves that found him sitting there beside his father's torn body with a dagger in hand, staring out into space, covered in blood. His father and mother's blood.

---

"**_I'm being charged with WHAT?_**" Darin shouted through the metal bars at the scowling guard on the other side.

It had been a few days since his parents had been killed. In that time he had been kept in the prison at the capitol city for reasons he was not aware of. It was only then that someone told him: the guard that had come to escort him to his trial.

Darin was on trial for the murders of Selene and Lando.

"**_This is absurd!_**" he protested. "**_I didn't kill them! They're my parents, for the Valar's sake!_**"

"**_Tell the King,_**" the guard said roughly binding Darin's hands behind his back. Another guard was waiting outside, a sword at his waist.

"**_I swear, I didn't do it!_**" Darin shouted, mind whirling with questions. How could they say he had killed his parents! It was the creature he had seen--

Darin stopped, suddenly realizing the trouble he was in. No one would believe his story of a strange shadow creature killing his parents when they had found him by his father's body, blood-covered and holding a weapon. _And I don't even know what that creature was or how to find it,_ he thought, all anger draining away as they lead him to the throne room. In its wake was a knot of panic. _There's no way that I can convince them I'm innocent._

The guard announced their entry. As the door opened on a somber audience within. The lords, nobles and other members of the Council had turned out, curious to know the youth's side of the story that was being told throughout the Kingdom. Rumors had been flying around since his return but this was the first time the young Elf would be allowed to speak of it. This was no trial, not by a long shot.

This was a witch hunt in the cleanest of guises.

Darin was forced down to his knees before the throne dais. He quickly scanned the faces in the room with his head down. Not one soul in the entire room looked as thought they cared much about whether or not he was innocent. Every one of them had the same thought playing on their face: he was guilty.

Darin felt a scream rising. A scream of what, he could not say.

Someone was speaking but the words did not reach the young Elf's ears. He sat, staring blankly at the ground, unaware of everything save for the growing hysteria in his gut. It was not until the guard beside him roughly pushed his shoulder did he realize he had been addressed.

Thranduil was waiting for an answer.

Shakily, Darin raised his head. "**_M-My lord?_**" he stammered. His gut twisted, threatening to retch as his mouth opened. He wished his arms had been bound in front of him, then at least he might be able to keep from further humiliating himself and physically hold it in.

The King of Northern Mirkwood raised a brow, whether annoyed or surprised Darin could not say. "**_What do you have to say about this?_**" he said, motioning shortly in the air. "**_Your very life is in question, child. I wish to know what you have to say about it._**"

Darin tried to take deep breaths but they continued to become shallower. He swallowed, throat working to respond. "**_I-I am not responsible for th-their death,_**" he choked out. "**_I was not there when the c-camp was attacked._**"

A buzz of angry yet quiet voices pierced the air. Unconsciously Darin glanced around. The faces that met him made his blood turn cold.

"**_If you were not there,_**" the King spoke, cutting through the voices, "**_then were where you and why were you found soaked in blood?_**"

"**_I-I was visiting a native of the area,_**" Darin said, forcing his eyes on the steps of the dais. "**_He told me to r-return. I found them li-like that._**" He paused, swallowing against the rising bile. "**_That…that thing was still there. I attacked it but it was too fast---_**"

"**_What thing?_**" several onlookers shouted in disgust. The agreeing murmur was all Darin needed to know that they did not believe him.

Quite suddenly, the voices stopped all at once. Darin glanced upwards. The King was glaring around the room. "**_If I cannot conduct affairs in my own hall without a constant commentary, then I shall order you all into the Forest until my ears stop ringing!_**" he said sharply.

The King's words caused a small feeling of hope to swell in Darin's chest. Could it be---Did the King---

Yet when the wizened eyes fell back to Darin's huddled form, he did not see belief. All that was reflected in those gray-blue orbs was pity. "**_There was no 'thing',_**" the King said, haltingly as if Darin was slow to understand. "**_There were no tracks or footprints other than those of you, Lando, and Selene. There is no one in residence up there. That entire area is deserted save for the spiders._**"

Darin's chest tightened. No. No. The Old Hermit was there. He had to be there.

"**_Our scouts searched the area thoroughly,_**" the King said, reading the expression on Darin's face.

"**_No._**" Darin's voice sounded harsh in his own ears. His eyes burned with tears of anger yet he refused to let them fall. "**_No. No! You're wrong! Wrong! You missed him! You missed the Hermit!_**"

King Thranduil blinked, startled. The lords and nobles gasped and muttered indignantly at the young Elf's outburst.

"**_Darin, you must stop this. It will only make things---_**"

"**_You missed him!_**" Darin yelled. He did not know when but he had gotten to his feet, lunging at the throne. The guards dove upon him, holding him back. He fought, kicking and biting. The rage he had felt towards his parents' murderer was now directed to the one on that throne, the one blatantly ignoring the truth Darin was saying. "**_I didn't kill them!_**" he screamed, thrashing against the guards. "**_I didn't kill them, you deaf bastard!_**"

Whether enraged at how he addressed the Kind or seeing that the youth had to be forcibly subdued, a guard punched Darin deep in the stomach. Darin jerked, the breath knocked out of him. The other guards, reading the tell-tale signs of his face and neck, let him drop and backed away. Darin fell haphazardly to the ground and vomited.

Fighting another surge of sickness, Darin strained his watering eyes up to the throne. The King was on his feet, staring at Darin in stunned amazement. Darin let all his anger and hate show in his eyes. "**_I didn't kill them,_**" he wheezed. "**_I didn't kill them. But you can bet I'll kill you, bastard!_**"

The nearest guard kicked Darin in the back. He heard someone order him to be put in the prison. Then, darkness.

---

Darin stayed in the prison for an unknown amount of time. He had given up counting the days when they swiftly turned into years. He was treated fairly well, considering the guard treated him slightly better than an Orc.

Darin grew accustomed to the routine of the prison guards. He quickly figured what was happening as well as what time of the year it was by simply studying the guards. His fellow prisoners were curious pieces of study as well. He had only a few cell mates, usually ones that were only there for a short stay.

One lasted a particularly long time. That one was no problem though, he simply sat and stared into empty space. Apparently, he had gone into a mental meltdown after the full reality of his crime had soaked in. Darin never pressed for more than just the bare facts from other prisoners who knew: women and children raped, countless injured, and several dead, all because of something he had done. Graciously he was put out of his misery before long.

Darin never lost his will, determined to get out of the prison some way or another. His parents' killer was out there somewhere, and he would take his revenge on it.

As if the Valor had suddenly taken notice and pitied him, a way found Darin.

For several long months, rumors of a Necromancer had been whispered through the prison. They said the being had taken residence in Mirkwood and was corrupting the wood. And there was also talk of an increase of Orc activity. Due to the gossip, the Wood Elves had become paranoid, at least in Darin's eyes. New prisoners were added almost daily, a handful put to death every month. Darin noted that there was an increasing amount of non-Elf prisoners being led past his cell.

One day, soon after the yearly harvest celebrations, Darin was awoken by loud, gruff voices. Silently he peered through the bars to see what was going on. His eyes widened, the only sign of his surprise.

Dwarves! By a quick count, around twelve of them. They were all thrown into the cells save for the one who held himself with a regal air. Darin snorted. Well, as regal as he could be when he was nearly tripping over his beard and chains. That one was led further into the dungeons, down to the high security cells. Darin grew curious about these Dwarves. What had they done to warrant imprisonment? They all seemed preoccupied with a missing member or two of their party as well as some lost treasure. And Darin was sure he heard one curse Elrond, the Lord of Rivendell. He shook his head, thinking, _This is very strange_.

It became stranger still. Darin thought his new neighbors were being annoying on purpose, talking at all hours in what they thought were whispers. For several days they kept this up. Then, Darin heard footsteps outside his door stop. He was surprised for when he looked out, he saw no one. He dismissed it, thinking he might be coming down with an illness. Then he heard some of the Dwarves call a name and the footless footsteps resumed. Startled, Darin stared, trying to comprehend what he was seeing---or _not_ seeing.

Darin had heard of wizards being able to turn themselves invisible, but he had never seen one do it. If a member of the Dwarf party had found a way, this may be able to work to his advantage.

He listened carefully over the next few days, keeping his eyes closed and straining his ears so as not to be distracted. He quickly learn the magician---or Burglar, as some of the Dwarves called him---was trying to help them escape. He had devised a plan that used wine barrels. Whatever the finer details of the plans were Darin did not care. He listened intently for the time when Burglar would free his party. Then, quite suddenly, the day came when Darin was alerted by quickly running footsteps and a jangling noise. Burglar had gotten the keys!

One by one, the Dwarves were let out of their cells, following the instructions the Burglar gave them. Patiently, Darin crouched at the corner of his cell doors. He had grown in his years at the prison and now his arms could stretch out a considerable length through the bars. If he was able to time this right……

His trained ears picked up the sounds of Burglar's feet. He waited, holding his breath, arm at the ready. Sweat beaded his brow from his concentration, his legs shook underneath him, a tick twitched on his jaw---

_NOW!_

Darin snapped his arm out, hand grasping the cool metal of the keying as it passed. He wrenched it from its place on the passing being. The force of his pull knocked Darin backwards. As the sounds of a startled Hobbit and anxious Dwarves reached him, the corridors echoed with Darin's slightly crazed laughter. He rocked back and forth on the filthy floor, cradling the keys to him as if they were a precious treasure.

After night fell, Darin brought out the keys, and disappeared from Mirkwood.

---

Darin sighed, shifting his hood discreetly to cover his face better. It had been only a few months since he escaped Mirkwood and he was still no where closer to finding his parents' murderer. He found out quickly that Thranduil was not please at his escape and had sent out many scouts to find him and bring him back. Now he had to be careful as his distinguishing feature could be the death of him.

Darin glanced down at the item he was handling as the market-seller waited anxiously for his approval. It was a Bo made out of sturdy wood. Darin was looking for a good weapon he could use but his skills were limited since weapons' training was not something they taught to the prisoners. All Darin knew was what he had been taught before those days. He started to give the seller his opening price, when his ears picked up a sound that had become all too familiar to him.

Footsteps belonging to Elven scouts.

Darin cursed himself, politely handing the Bo back to the seller and saying a hasty 'thank you but I need to go now' as he tried to hide in the waning crowds. He beat himself mentally for forgetting the large cloth he usually had wrapped around his lower face to further obstruct the view of his face. He had misplaced it somewhere over the last week and had to go on without it. Now they had found him. The footsteps were slowly approaching him from behind. He increased his pace a bit, hoping to make it back to the inn where he was staying before they caught up.

Something made Darin glance up: a voice that caught his attention for some reason. He looked ahead. A group of three people were walking through the crowds, two young women and a man, talking and laughing with one another. His decades of studying the passing guards in the prison had paid off for now Darin had developed an ability to determine whether someone was an Elf or not. And though they did not look like it, the three ahead of him were Elves.

The taller female walked gracefully, evidence of being brought up proper and carried herself easily. Darin was certain that she was a Noble Elf of high blood if not Royalty itself. The other female had a bounce in her step that hinted at youthfulness, a sharp yet subtle scent emitted from her being. She was more than likely a potion expert or a mage because the scent was of herbs. But the man was who drew Darin's attention. Though he acted young, Darin sensed he was far older than he looked. His cloak was pulled around him, but Darin was sure he was well muscled, therefore very strong and capable of using that strength on whomever he pleased. One look from his brown eyes told Darin that he was an extremely well trained warrior.

Fearful at being caught, Darin froze momentarily. The warrior's eyes flew to him, frowning as if considering him, before passing over. Darin swiftly continued on his way, keeping his head down. The three passed without paying any heed to him. He let out his breath, thankful that they did not try anything. The man especially had made him worry.

A hand clasped tightly onto his arm. Darin jerked reflexively, feeling something cold and sharp pressing against his side.

"**_Act normal and you'll live for a while longer,_**" muttered a voice in Sindarin.

Darin glared sideways at the Elf scout that gripped his arm but did so. The scout smirked, pulling him out of the crowds and into a lone alleyway. Further down the alley other Scouts were waiting, all smirking or grinning at Darin as he was led down to them.

"**_So, we've got the fugitive at last!_**" exclaimed one, laughing. "**_King Thranduil will be pleased when we return._**"

Darin bit his tongue to keep in a retort that would probably get himself killed sooner.

"**_A poor disguise,_**" sneered another, ripping back the hood so he could see them clearly. Darin winced at the sudden brightness of the light. "**_I am surprised we couldn't find you sooner._**"

"**_It seems one would find a harder time in dressing themselves in the morning._**"

"**_Especially since they are best that the Kingdom of Northern Mirkwood had to offer._**"

The scouts spun around towards the sound of the voices. Darin as well, but the one holding onto him took the chance to whip out a knife and held it against his throat, keeping him still. "**_Who are you?_**" he demanded to the figures standing against the sunlight at the front of the alley.

Darin held back a gasp as they casually walked in closer. They were the group of Elves he had noticed earlier.

"**_No one you would know,_**" said the man with a chuckle. He paused. "**_Well, in truth, you might. But that's not important. You are from Mirkwood, correct?_**"

The scout exchanged a glance with his fellows. "**_Yes. What of it?_**"

The man smiled widely. "**_Perfect. We've been looking for you. We wish to inquire and acquire of you._**"

The lead scout studied him suspiciously. "**_What do you mean?_**"

"**_Just what he said,_**" replied the short female, hands on hips. "**_We wish to ask a question and get something from you. Inquire. Acquire. Understand?_**"

"**_Mind your business and leave!_**" the scout said, annoyed by her attitude.

"**_Of course,_**" said the other female, coming a bit closer. "**_But we must ask our question: Who is this young one you call a 'fugitive'?_**"

"**_His name is of no importance,_**" began the scout, rolling his eyes. "**_He escaped---_**"

"**_I did not ask you,_**" she cut him off in a cold tone. "**_I wish to hear it from his mouth, not yours. It seems only suitable for making pathetic jokes and flattery._**" She turned to Darin, her expression visibly softer yet still stern. "**_Now, then. Who are you?_**"

Darin took a little breath, then said, "**_My name is Darin. I am from Northern Mirkwood. I was unjustly tried for the murders of my parents and escaped to find their real killer._**"

A smirk flickered across her face as she stepped back, her eyes holding Darin's. He was sure he heard her voice say, _It will be all right. _Yet her mouth never moved. Whatever it was, it relaxed him.

"**_Now, we acquire something of yours,_**" said the man, bowing slightly to the scouts. "**_And that is what we wish._**" He swept his arm out to indicate what it was they wanted.

Darin.

"**_What?_**" exclaimed the lead scout, looking at the man as if he had gone insane.

"**_Of course,_**" he said with a yawn, nonchalantly throwing his cloak back, "**_you will receive a fee for your trouble._**" He smirked as he draped an arm over the hilt of his large sword. Though his body language suggested nothing, his eyes were narrowed and spoke to the scouts: He would not hesitate to draw his sword, and he meant business.

"**_How much?_**" said the lead scout, tense.

"**_A payment I'm sure you will deem worthy,_**" said the tall female, making her way back to Darin. She waved the lead scout away, who moved back for an unknown reason, a light flashing in his eyes. She took Darin by the shoulder and went back to the other two.

"**_What is this payment, wench?_**" said the scout, angered at her snobbery.

"**_Very simple,_**" she said, turning to face him. "**_Your payment is your life for his. You may go now. Do not try my patience._**"

In the blink of an eye, the Elf scouts surrounded the four, weapons draw and arrows leveled at them. "**_It seems you don't understand,_**" sneered one. "**_We were hired to take him with us back to Mirkwood. Unless you can produce more than what the King gave us, we will finish our job._**"

"**_Give him up,_**" said another, raising his blade just under the tall female's chin against her throat, "**_and we'll let you go._**"

Darin saw the female at his side smirk, her eyes glowing an unholy blue color. The other female cried some short exclamation, throwing something to the ground. A bright flash blinded Darin for a moment. He blinked, refocusing his eyes, and stared at what had happened.

The Elf scouts were all on the ground, held there by viscous looking daggers driven deep into their shoulders. Various slashes had been made into different areas of the arms and legs, paralyzing them by the look of it, and were unconscious. The three strangers were standing almost in the exact place they had been before the flash. One female had a set of daggers in her hands, readying to throw if need be, the other tossing a small bag between her hands, and the man had his sword drawn, blood dripping off the end of it.

The tall female shrugged as she put her daggers up, snorting, "**_I told you not to try my patience. See what happens when you don't listen. Idiots._**" She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, turning back to her companions and Darin. "**_Let's go, before anyone finds them._**"

They nodded, quickly exiting the alley, ushering Darin along with them. They wove through the crowds and soon came to an inn. They did not stop until they reached a room and entered it. The man pushed Darin into a chair and ordered him to 'Say put and keep quiet'.

"**_Yet another group of arrogant Elves who think they rule Middle-Earth,_**" sighed the tall female, removing a shimmering bracelet of silver from her wrist. Darin held back a startled gasp when her form shifted, her hair now short with two braids down to the middle of her back, her Elven ears clearly visible. Her attire shocked him most of all because it was a form fitting sleeveless tunic and breeches, both dark colors.

"Speak simple," a rough voice spoke from beside Darin.

The Elf jerked towards the voice. The huge form of a man was there, as if he had suddenly appeared, his large arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes were hidden under his thick red hair.

"Sorry, Clad," the dark-haired Elf responded in Common Speech. "We just ran into some trouble on our way back."

The man paused, taking a short sniff of the air, then said, "Wood-Elves, _le_?"

"As ever, your sense of smell hides nothing," said the man, also pulling off a bracelet. He was revealed to be a bit less muscular than Darin had first thought and his face was younger than it had been. "We have found what might be another to our cause," he said with a motion towards Darin.

"Cause?" repeated Darin, wondering who these people were. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"We will answer your questions," said the dark-haired girl, "when you answer ours. Extend your left arm," she commanded, holding out a hand.

Frowning, Darin did so. The girl caught it by the wrist, pulling back his sleeve to show the scars he had received from the shadow creature. Memories of that day made him clench his teeth. The girl studied the scars, running a hand over them. Darin could see her eyes beginning to glow again. "Just as I thought," she muttered, letting him have his arm back. "He was attacked by one," she said to the others around them.

"How long ago?" asked the other girl.

"About two or three hundred years, maybe more," she said. "I'm not sure, though. I've only been tracking them for a little more than one century," she said with a laugh. She turned back to Darin and asked, "Can you describe the creature that gave you these scars?"

Darin nodded, proceeding to do so. After he was finished, they asked him about why he had been charged with his parents' murder. He told them, skipping over the details that would have made him become rather emotional. No matter how long it had been, it still hurt that he had not been able to save his parents.

"Darin," said the brown-eyed man, "what would you say if we told you we know how to find this creature?"

Darin's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can?" he gasped.

"Yes, but we--"

"How can I find it?" interrupted Darin. News at being able to find the murdering creature made him forget what these people were capable of. "Tell me. How?"

"You will only know if you come with us," replied the short girl, her eyes grim. "If you do, you can never return to any other life. Is that what you want?"

"I don't care, I just want to make that abomination pay for the hell it put me through," he said.

The four exchanged glances, asking each other something with their eyes. "Then we will ask one more question, Darin," said the girl in front of him. "And answer truthfully, or else we will bring you to Thranduil ourselves. Understand?"

Darin nodded, worried over what this question would be.

"All right, then. Here is our question: Who are you really? Who is the real 'Darin'?"

The Wood-Elf blinked, thinking she had said it wrong. Yet the look in her eyes told him that it was not so. He looked down trying to find a way to answer it that would not send him back to Mirkwood. He did not notice it at first but he soon realized that his mouth was speaking on its own accord.

"The real Darin no longer exists. He was killed by the ignorant King who said he killed his own parents. I have no idea who or what I really am anymore."

The girl stood, pacing the length of the room as if in thought. Occasionally Darin caught a word, but they made no sense to him. He sat nervously until finally she stopped. She studied him for a moment or two before she said, "That will do." She extended her hand, grinning, "Welcome to the fold, Darin."

----------


	18. Chapter XV Part IV: The Wandering Ident...

Chapter Fifteen - Part IV: The Wandering Identity

"_Masks we wish to shred,  
Masks that are our regretful faces._"

Deep in the wood of Lothlorien, Dias, pupil of the great Galadriel, leaned heavily against the trunk of the great tree he was sitting under. He had his eyes closed, his head resting on the tree. One hand was clenched around his staff, the jeweled top still flickering from the spell he had attempted to cast earlier. His cloak and hood were pulled closely around his form, shivering in the heat of the midday sun.

His head hurt far too much for his ears to pick up the sounds of approaching footsteps. The forms of three Elven archers broke out of the bushes beside him, two searching around the area and the third rushing to Dias' side in concern. "**_Dias,_**" he said, gently rousing the younger Elf. "**_Dias, wake up._**"

Dias groaned, rolling his head to the side before his eyes blinked opened. The Elf at his side stared in shock as Dias removed the hood. His hair was pure white with a shimmering blue tint to it and his eyes that were once pale blue in color now a deep blue, pale silver tints visible in them. Dias winced, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye. "**_H-Haldir?_**" he said, noticing the other Elf. "**_What happened?_**"

Haldir did not reply for a moment, but soon got his wits about him and said, "**_We were hoping you would be able to tell us, Dias. An explosion came from an area not far off from here. We came as quickly as we could since you always practice in this section of the Wood. Do you remember what happened?_**"

The studying sorcerer winced again, trying to remember what had happened. He shivered, wrapping the cloak tighter around him. _Why was it so cold?_ "**_I...I recall casting a...an ice spell I've been working on for some time, but after that..._**" He stopped, almost falling over. He quickly steadied himself with his hand against the ground. "**_I don't know,_**" he finished, shrugging.

"**_Perhaps with some rest you will---_**" Haldir started to say, but stopped when his eyes caught sight of something very odd. The grass beneath Dias' hand had a thin layer of ice on it that was quickly growing and spreading. Dias followed his line of sight and gasped, withdrawing his hand in the blink of an eye. The two Elves stared at the column of ice that had materialized, following Dias' hand.

"**_Wh-what is this?_**" said Dias, standing to get away from the ice. Much to his dismay, it continued to grow from his hand.

One of the archers, Rumil, studied the column with narrowed eyes. "**_You say you were casting an ice spell?_**" he asked slowly.

Dias nodded.

"**_What is it you suspect?_**" said Orophin, still circling the area with his gaze.

"**_I cannot say for certain, but perhaps the spell you cast effected your body. You said it was an ice spell, correct?_**"

Just the thought of what the spell could have done to his body frightened Dias so that the remaining color left his pale face.

"**_Let us return,_**" said Haldir, pulling Dias out of his state. "**_Maybe Lady Galadriel will have some insight on what happened._**"

---

Dias sighed, rubbing his shoulder. He had just returned from the healers' and though they said he was physically fine, he was still unsure as to what happened with the ice spell. He believed that what Rumil had said was true and the spell had changed his body. "**_It would explain these chills,_**" Dias said to himself, rubbing his arms as he shivered. He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "**_And why my appearance has changed so._**"

A laugh caught Dias' attention, stopping him. He turned to the sound and a smile broke out on his face. He ran, jumping up the short flight of steps the other was standing on, and embraced her.

Lady Galadriel returned the embrace warmly. She smiled as she held him at arm's length and said, "**_Are you ever going to grow up, Dias?_**"

"**_It would depend on your definition of 'grown up', my Lady,_**" replied Dias, smile still on his face. Though he hid it, he was wondered often about that question. The Lady had started asking it a while ago, repeating it every time they met.

"**_Are you all right, though?_**" she asked, looking him over with motherly concern.

"**_Yes, I will be in perfect condition in a week, you have no reason to worry,_**" he assured her.

Galadriel was silent, as if wondering if she should believe him, before she nodded, smiling. "**_As ever, your eyes are true blue, Dias._**" That phrase was one she was particularly fond of using when talking to him. It meant that he was speaking the truth, for blue stood for honesty. "**_Very well, then,_**" she said. "**_We will hold your lessons for the next week until you have fully recovered. Understand?_**" she said when he started to protest.

Dias nodded reluctantly. "**_Yes, m'am._**"

Galadriel smiled, ruffling his hair as if he were a child before sending him on his way. When he was gone she sighed, shaking her head.

"**_Why do you delay it?_**" said a voice approaching her. Celeborn watched his wife carefully for her reaction.

"**_I fear what he will see,_**" said Galadriel quietly, not turning around. Her gaze drifted to the ground. "**_I fear what he will do._**"

"**_You can always order him to stay,_**" Celeborn said gently, draping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Galadriel shook her head. "**_I would not be able to live with myself if I did._**" She paused to take a breath then whispered softly, "**_The choice is ultimately his to make. And I will either rejoice or weep, for I will either keep him or loose him for all time._**"

---

Haldir moved easily past the underbrush that grew around the trail that led to the conjunction of the rivers Nimrodel and Anduin. This spot was one that Dias and Galadriel visited often when practicing dangerous spells and did not wish to unintentionally harm others.

It had been five months since Dias' accident with the ice spell. According to the Lady's hypothesis, the ice spell had indeed affected the young sorcerer. In the simplest of terms, it was as though Dias' body had absorbed the spell. He the power to conjure the ice from his body, yet he said that he still had a ways to go before he had complete control over it. Galadriel had sent Haldir to go check on her pupil for he had been gone two hours later than he had told her.

The plants ahead cleared and the Elf stood near the shores of the rivers. Further ahead, he saw the form of Dias, seated on top of a huge block of ice; the ice was not melting and in fact had a light layer of frost on it. Dias turned to glance over his shoulder, smiling in greeting as Haldir approached. "**_I know, I'm late,_**" Dias said, jumping down from the block of ice.

"**_That goes without saying,_**" said Haldir. "**_What delayed you for so long?_**"

Dias sighed, a slight rise his shoulders hinted at a shrug. He faced the flowing rivers, a strange expression on his face. "**_Thought, I guess,_**" he answered after a while.

"**_On what?_**" Haldir asked, wondering.

Dias look at the ground, thinking about how to answer the question. It was a long time before he said, "**_Orophin has looked into the Lady's Mirror, has he not?_**"

Haldir frowned, the question catching him off guard. "**_Yes, I believe he has._**"

"**_And Rumil as well?_**"

"**_Yes._**"

"**_And you?_**"

Haldir shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to dwell on the images the Mirror had shown him. He nodded. "**_Why do you ask?_**"

Silence. Dias walked towards the bank of the river, kneeling down beside the edge. He stared at his reflection in the water.

"**_What did you see in the Mirror?_**" Haldir asked when he could not bear the silence any longer, moving to stand beside Dias.

Dias did not answer right away. He slowly dipped his hand into the clear water, saying so low that Haldir almost did not hear him, "**_I have not looked into it. The Lady has forbidden me to even go near the place it is held._**"

Haldir frowned, perplexed. Though it was an unspoken rule that no one was to go to the Mirror without the Lady's presence, he had never heard of her making such a statement. "**_Why did she say such a thing?_**"

Dias shrugged, turning his hand in the water and disrupting the surface. "**_I can only guess at why she did so---_**"

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, both Elves jerking around. The sound of someone running came from not far into the trees to their side. Before either could do anything, the underbrush broke, a tall figure bursting through. It skidded to a stop not too far from the Elves, turning its head to them, grinning.

Shock seized their minds for a moment, seeing a bloodied corpse as well as a living person in its thin arms, then Haldir fired an arrow at the creature. It snapped its arm out, knocking the arrow away and dropping the captive that was alive. A low gurgle of a laugh came from it before it sprinted off, jumping off the shore and landing safely on the other side of the river. Haldir rushed to the victim's side while Dias cased after it.

Dias had been running at top speed for at least four minutes before the creature stopped, landing on a protruding boulder in the middle of the river. "Stay where you are!" Dias shouted in the Common Tongue.

A shrill laugh broke from the creature, stooping its posture. It dangled the body in its hands in front of it, moving it around tauntingly. Dias forced down the nausea at seeing the mutilated corpse, beaten and torn beyond recognition. The creature seemed to enjoy seeing that, its thin shoulders shaking with laughter. It stopped slowly, the expression on its face one of thought. Before Dias could see what it was doing, it raised the body to its mouth and bit into the neck, ripping off a chuck of the meat.

Rage surged through Dias's body, turning into cold hate. A chill ran down his body. He brought his hands back, bracing himself with his feet. "You MONSTER!" he screamed, throwing his hands out. A large bolt of ice shot out, ending in a sharp tip, aimed at the creature. Right before it would have struck, the creature grinned, its light red eyes glowing bright enough to illuminate its face, then disappeared.

Dias searched around for it, angry at himself for missing. His ears caught the sound of voices behind him. He spun, summoning an lightening spell at the same time. The bolt crackled in his fist as Dias released it onto the two figures behind him: the creature he was looking for as well as another one, this one hidden in the shadows of a nearby tree. The spell fired, the two engulfed in the bright light. Dias cancelled the spell, expecting to see the charred remains.

A fist connected with his gut, knocking the wind out of him. A hand grabbed him by the neck and threw him to the ground. Sharp pain came from his chest. He jerked his eyes down to see what had happened. A blade was sticking out of his chest, barely missing his heart. He tried to move his arms, but his body would not respond. His limbs were numb and useless.

"This is your first assignment," a thick voice said to Dias' right. He looked to see what was going on. The creature was standing beside him, talking to the other still in the shadows. "And it had better be done when I return. Understand?"

"Yes," the other replied, voice expressionless.

"Good." The creature sneered at the other before it disappeared once again.

Dias heard the shuffling of feet on the loose gravel of the shore, getting closer to him, then a form leaned over his face. Dias resisted the urge to gasp. He had expected this one to be like the other, but it was not.

Its skin was an ash gray color, vein like lines of black running all over it. Its hair was long, to its thin waist, and was a blonde hue at the tips yet it faded into pure black streaked with silver at the roots. Its eyes were large and dull, the whites were tinted black and the irises had a milky appearance--like it had been one color and was in the process of turning white. Its limbs were disproportionate to the rest of its body: the hands too small for the long arms and the knees a bit bigger than they should have been for the long legs. It had on a tattered, soiled garment that wrapped around its thin frame in lose folds to the knees. Various bruises could be seen on its skin as well as a few minor cuts and scrapes.

It sat there looking at Dias for a long time. It titled its head every now and then, studying him from all angles. Then, to his surprise, it spoke. "What are you?" Its voice was dull, yet a glimmer of curiosity shone through.

Dias tried to answer, but his tongue was slow and would not form the words.

The creature seemed to understand. It reached over to the blade and pulled it out with one quick jerk. It looked at the blade for a moment, then tossed it aside. Dias found he still could not move, but he was now capable of speech. "My name is Dias," he said, still a bit wary.

"What are you?" it said again.

"I am an Elf," Dias said, puzzled.

"Elf?" it repeated. Slowly, its hand moved. Its long fingers brushed past his hair, down to the side of his head. Dias resisted the urge to shiver; its hands were cold like ice. It stopped at his ears, staring at them. A strange expression came on its face. Its other hand reached up to its own, pushing back the tangled clumps of the multi-colored hair. Dias' eyes widened in shock at seeing the pointed tip of the being's ear.

"Elf," the creature said slowly. It shrank back, drawing its arms closer to it's body. "It's been so long," it whispered. "I'd forgotten what I had once..." it trailed off. A single tear fell from the creature's eye, unnoticed. "I'll let you go. Never return to this place. Ke'Dab will certainly kill you."

It raised a hand over the wound in his chest. "_Reth_," the creature said in a slightly stronger voice, though its face twisted in a wince at speaking the words. The wound glowed before sealing, the blood stopping. It turned its head, its eyes meeting his with an intense gaze. "New winds are blowing." It sat back, away from him.

Dias stood up and ran, not knowing where he was headed and not caring. All he knew was that he had to get away from there. He was well away when the other returned. His ears picked up the sound of it striking the other, shouting fiercely, "I should have known you'd let him go! You good for nothing dufa'ga!"

---

The creature had torn through one end of the forest to the other, attacking all in its path. Around twenty-three Elves had been killed, many more injured. The atmosphere of Lothlorien was no longer one of enjoyment; it was of grief and heartache.

Dias sat in the roots of one of the great mallon trees, lost in thought. The wound that the blade had inflicted seemed to have healed completely, not even leaving a scar. He grunted, leaning his head against the trunk. The tree's branches rustled without wind, as if trying to console him.

"**_Dias._**"

The Elf jerked up, seeing Galadriel standing in front of him. His teacher stood straight, hands folded together in front of her; her gazed stared down at him. Dias' felt a chill run down his back. Something was wrong. "**_Follow me._**" She turned without waiting for him to reply and walked on.

Dias got to his feet and caught up, walking a step behind her. He glanced around as they moved past many Elves, a few not even noticing their presence. He frowned soon, seeing that the scenery was unfamiliar to him. He had never been this way before. Galadriel turned, descending one last stairway that lead into a small alcove within the great roots of the trees growing there, a waterfall on one side. Dias stopped on the steps, shocked. His eyes widened in confusion. Dread was born in his heart for some reason he did not know, for he knew where he was.

_The Mirror of Galadriel._

Dias was shaken out of his shock by her voice. "**_Come closer, Dias._**" She was standing beside the pedestal that held a silver basin, a pitcher in her hands. Dias obeyed, his eyes staying on the basin as the dread slowly began to grow.

"**_You wish me to look in the Mirror?_**" Dias asked as he stood on the other side of the pedestal.

Galadriel did not answer. She simply raised the pitcher over the basin, and poured out the water into it. She stepped back, looking at him expectantly.

Taking a breath to steady himself, Dias stepped closer and leaned over to look into the Mirror of Galadriel...

_A village being attacked by Orcs, himself amid the chaos, slaying the foul beings with his sword and magic. He sliced through one, turning to face another. He stood back-to-back with a young Elf-maiden. Her sort hair swirled around as she turned her head to grin at him, one of her two braids hitting him in the face. He grinned back, excited._

_Sunset. He stood, watching the sun fall down behind the mountains. He turned, meeting the surprised face of another Elf maid. This one had reddish-blonde hair and brown eyes that he got lost in every time he looked into them. He smiled, stroking her cheek with hishand fondly. _

The red-eyed creature stood over the corpses of various children, grinning as it sunk its teeth into one's torn off arm. It laughed at Dias and his comrades, taunting them because they had been too late.

A huge being was before the two Elf-maidens. It looked like a tree at first glance, but it was more like a man with the features of a tree. Several more of the creatures surrounded them. There was no way they could run, there were too many.

He stood in a cave, cloaked and hooded. The dark haired Elf-maiden pushed forward two people: one an Elf that had an air of nobility about him--he was certain that he was a prince of some sort--and one a girl with brown-blonde hair and red eyes that bore into him like a fire. He was shocked upon meeting her gaze. There was something wrong with this girl. Her aura was thick and black as if she was cursed. With a little probing, he was shocked to see that he was right: She was indeed cursed.

A large study, long since abandoned. Books everywhere. In the corner there were a few bundles. The red-eyed girl pulled one up, removing the wrapping to reveal a short sword in its sheath, the hilt made of silver and encrusted with diamonds all over it.

Blackness. A form integrated before him, shrouded in a ash-purple cloak and hood. It raised a gloved hand to him, words coming to his mind. "Join with me. You will live for eternity in a perfect body. You will known no more pain or hurt. Only peace..." It disappeared.

The creature he had met on the shore was there now, but its hair was shorter and only black and silver. Its skin was solid black as well. It was shaking in fear. "Help me. I can help you, too. I know what he's planning. Please, just help me! HELP ME!"

...Dias snapped back, his breathing heavy. He pressed a hand against his head, willing the pain to cease.

"**_Now the time has come, Dias,_**" Galadriel spoke.

Dias looked up, dazed. "**_Wh-What?_**"

Galadriel paused, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. She had been dreading this day, this moment, from the first time she had begun to teach Dias. And now, it had to be done. "**_Now is the time in which you will decide your fate,_**" she said. "**_I have known that once you looked into this Mirror you would see those things and then you would have to choose what you would do about it._**"

"**_What do you mean?_**"

"**_You have two choices: you can stay here, finish your training--for you have no where near completing even half of it--and await for the day when you are called to fight the Reapers. Or you leave now, traveling Middle-Earth in search of those people you saw: the dark-haired niece of Elrond and the Half-Elf outlaw. What will it be?_**"

Dias stared at her, overwhelmed at the decision she demanded of him. "**_Leave Lothlorien?_**" he questioned.

"**_That is one choice,_**" Galadriel said. "**_But know this: I do not wish you to leave, yet it is not my decision, it is yours. If you do choose that, you will never be allowed within this land again. You will be killed if you try._**" Galadriel held her breath, silently wishing she did not have to resort to threats to heighten the chance that he would stay. Try as she might, she had been unable to see what choice he would take. She prayed he would not go yet if he did, she knew that she would have to keep her word.

Dias' head was spinning. It was almost too much for him to take. This choice had too many consequences for him to understand and she was demanding he decide now. It was all he could do to stay standing. Why should he leave? He was happy in Lothlorien. He was with his family and his friends that he had known for centuries, so why should he choose?

A voice echoed in his mind. _'New winds are blowing._'

Dias froze, then sighed, running a hand through his white hair. He knew what to do, but he wished he did not have to do so. It was going to hurt so many people, not the least of whom was standing before him. He raised his head, meeting his teacher's eyes. He did not need to say anything, for she saw it in his eyes.

Dias was leaving.

---

Dias left immediately after that, taking only his staff and short sword. No one was allowed to see him off, for he was no longer welcomed in Lothlorien. Yet just as Dias passed through the lasts of the trees, he found something: a traveling pack and cloak laid there, waiting for him. On it was a slip of paper with an Elvish rune. Dias smiled, tears brimming his eyes. The rune stood for '_Haldir_.'

Dias did not care to keep track of time, so he did not know how long it was since he had left Lothlorien, but he thought about it every day, especially during the sunset. He spent nights outside, not feeling comfortable in an inn. He ventured into villages only when needed. Dias continued experimenting with spells, teaching himself. He never found reason, though, to use them until the day his life took another turn.

For a reason Dias did not see at first, he was compelled to go into a certain village. It was nothing out of the ordinary, small, rural, by a valley. The desire was so strong that he stood right inside the gates for a long time, staring at all the buildings as he tried to see what it was that attracted him to this one village. He had been doing this for about an hour or two and the gatekeeper was getting suspicious of him when his senses suddenly sprang to full alert.

Dias spun around, drawing his sword and holding it in front of him. To the normal eye, it would appear as if he was facing down nothing but air. Yet he could see a small rip in the air just outside of the gates, a smoky gray in color. The rip grew and expanded until it could be seen by anyone with eyesight. Then, the rip opened wide. Dias' eyes widened in shock as Orcs without number began to pour out of the rip. They saw him and, knowing he was an Elf, charged. Dias regained his wits, and the battle began.

While the majority of the Orcs maneuvered around him, several decided they wanted to take him down. Dias switched from casting spells to using his sword on and off again, depending on how many were attacking at once. Somehow, through it all, he was being lead into the village. He cut down another Orc, catching his breath and looking around.

Dias found that he was alone now. The Orcs were further in, allowing him a moment to recuperate. He check himself for injuries--glad to see that his protection spell was working as it should be--and then moved towards the sounds of the Orcs. As he did so, he found that there were no inhabitants of the villagers, neither did he see any bodies besides that of Orcs. Did they manage to evacuate in time? That only brought another question: who was killing the Orcs?

Dias stopped, something about the dead Orcs puzzling him. He kneeled beside one, checking it for the cause of death. He found a thin yet expertly made slash across the chest, severing the neck as well. On another he saw it had been hewed in half, but it looked as if it had been by an ax or an extremely thick-bladed sword. One had several holes in it, probably from a dagger. And still another had a single arrow sticking out of its chest. That one puzzled Dias the most. He went over to this one and pulled out the arrow. It was a normal looking one, nothing special about it. He examined the tip, which was giving off a peculiar smell. He sniffed it, flinching back when the odor seemed to burn his nose. "Poison," he said to himself. It seemed that the village was not as deserted as he thought.

A shrill voice flew to him, which caught Dias by surprise because it was not one of an Orc; it belonged to a female.

"Hehe! Time to die!" it screamed. "Die!"

Dias stood, following the voice. Without warning an Orc jumped on him from the small house he had been running past. The weight of it forced him down, pinning his arm under him. It caught his other one, jerking it out of its socket. It grinned in victory, bringing its blade back to behead him.

"Hah!" a voice grunted.

Something collided with the Orc, both flying off of Dias, who sat up in alarm. The Orc was sent crashing to the ground while the assailant rolled expertly to its feet. Dias could make out its profile as it turned its head to watch the Orc.

Dias gasped, not believing his eyes. It was the dark-haired Elf-maiden he had seen in the Mirror so long ago. She was grinning a grin that border lined insanity, her eyes glowing a dull blue in their green depths. She flung something at Dias, saying, "Put that on your arm. It'll numb the pain and immobility."

Dias caught it in midair, studying the plain bracelet for a second before slipping it on the wrist of his dislocated arm. At once, feeling was restored as the pain vanished. He rotated his wrist experimentally and found it was good as new.

"Come on, get up!" the Elf-maiden shouted, thumping her fists on the ground to taunt the dazed Orc. "Come on! Weakling!"

That spurred the Orc on. It scrambled up, rushing at her. She flipped her daggers from their hidden location into her hands, driving them into both sides of his neck. The Orc jerked, then went limp. She pulled the daggers out and turned to Dias. "Come on," she said, lifting him up to his feet. "I didn't give you that bracelet so you could sit there! There're Orcs to kill!" she cheered, rushing back the way she came.

A moment of stupidity struck Dias, who stared after her, then, as if it was contagious, he grinned like she had done, gripping his sword and joining in the chaos.

---

After the Orcs had been disposed of, Dias sat on the ground beside one of the houses, extending his dislocated arm for the dark-haired Elf Denya to examine. The bracelet she had given him had disintegrated after about fifteen minutes, leaving his arm useless once again. She had explained with a roll of her eyes that she was unable to create healing bracelets with permanent effect, so Dias would have to settle for good old fashion healing.

The rest of her group was around them, except for one member, she said. "I can't believe she's still gone," Denya muttered, bracing Dias' arm before shoving it into place. "Told her not to waste any more."

"What?" Dias asked, wincing.

"Aurora. She shot too many arrows and went to collect the ones that can still be used." Denya laughed shortly. "She's such an idiot sometimes." She positioned his arm and told him to grab a hold of the opposite shoulder, saying to keep it that way until it had mended.

Dias did so, looking over the group around him. He had never seen such a variety of races before. He did not say anything to them, nor did anyone speak to him. A slightly tensed silence hung in the air. The Lorien Elf knew something was up. Just by looking at these people, the way they acted, how efficiently and quickly they had killed the Orcs, he knew they were a group with a cause, a mission of some sorts. The glances they kept giving him made him certain that they either wanted something from him or of him. He was anxious to find out what it was and then leave. Yet the images in the Mirror made him rethink.

_What is going on?_ Dias thought to himself, resting his head in his good hand.

"There you are!" Denya exclaimed. Dias heard her clap someone on the shoulder. "I was about to come after you."

"What? You don't trust me now?" came the reply.

Dias blinked, raising his head. The voice seemed familiar to him. His blue and silver eyes set on the figure standing next to Denya, a bundle of arrows in her arms. A tingle of warm pleasure shot down his spine, something he had not felt since---well, ever.

It was the other Elf Dias had seen in the Mirror, but it's image of her had not done her justice. In person, she was much more appealing to the eye. Her reddish-blonde hair complemented her brown eyes, lighting up her face when she laughed. He found himself staring at her, watching her every move.

Dias failed to see Auron grip the handle of his sword, eyeing the Lorien Elf.

Aurora stopped talking to Denya, noticing for the first time the young Elf sitting down. She blinked, studying him. Because of his unusual hair and eye color she could not tell what kind of Elf he was, but he was the most attractive one she had ever laid eyes on in her long, long life.

Clad cleared his throat, catching Denya attention.

Denya frowned at him, then gasped, "Oh! Right!"

---

It had taken a little time for the Guild to explain themselves to Dias, who was quite shocked when Denya was able to pinpoint the exact locate that the Reaper's blade had pierced his skin. They requested that he accompany them, saying his spell casting abilities would be a fine asset. Dias had to decline though because he still was not sure if he wanted to join such a group. While he had found the two Elf-Maidens he had seen in the Mirror, he was uncertain as to what he should do. He had nothing against them, he just was not sure. They did not pressure him and they went their separate ways.

In the years that followed, on several occasions they would run into each other. After a few times at doing this, Dias found that his mind was frequently turning to thoughts about Aurora. It came to be that he would linger in villages, searching the crowds for her or any of the others. Upon one time, Denya said that since they kept meeting up, fate must be telling them something. She proposed that they should travel with him for a while and so Dias could consider their offer with a better understanding of their group. Dias did not mind them doing so because it gave him a chance to be with Aurora.

In their travels, the two had become good friends. They knew more about each other than they knew about themselves. Denya often teased them about their bond, but Dias paid her no attention. He had started to believe that he was falling for Aurora. His only problem was he did not know of Aurora's feelings. The way she talked to him, the hugs she gave him, even the way she looked at him, there was no way Dias could see anything in them except brotherly love. Such was as he told Denya one day.

They had taken a break, setting up a temporary campsite in a valley between two great hills. Huge boulders dotted the area, a patch of which served as their shelter. Dias and Denya were standing on top of one boulder, sparring. Even if he was not even a contact, for all the help he had given them, they decided they would help him improve in his abilities. Denya had chosen to fight on top of this particular boulder because it was extremely tall and slightly pointed at the top. She had said that this would make Dias better his balance.

"I don't know what to think of it, Denya," Dias said with a sigh, ducking her dagger and sweeping his leg out, catching her behind the legs. "I just don't know."

Denya flipped, landing in a crouched position. She shrugged, "Well, you could ask her."

"But then I'd risk losing her friendship," he replied, uttering a short chant.

"Sometimes--" Denya stopped, rolling out of the way of the fireball he threw at her, "--that's a risk you have to take."

"True," Dias murmured. Denya jumped then, catching him around the torso with her legs and forcing him to the ground, her daggers held against his neck. He grunted, trying to get air back in his lungs. "But how will I know what she says will be the truth?"

Denya stopped, her face thoughtful. She sheathed her daggers--signaling that their session was over--and got off him, sitting cross-legged on the rock. "Windows," she mumbled after a while.

"What?" Dias said, not understanding.

"It's an old saying," Denya said, "that a friend of mine once said: Eyes are the windows to the soul." She shrugged. "Just watch her eyes and you'll know. When it comes to lying, she's terrible at it."

Dias nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "If ever I get the chance I will."

He did not realize how soon the chance would come, for Denya knew more than she told him.

---

Aurora frowned, fidgeting with her sleeves. It was time for the evening meal and Dias had not returned for the walk he said he wanted to take. For some reason, Denya had 'suggested' Aurora go look for him. And by suggested, that meant Denya shoved her out of the camp and threatened anyone who followed her.

_Well, how am I supposed to find him without help?_ Aurora thought, throwing her arms up in frustration. She was about to turn back when a voice caught her ear. She paused, listening. It was Dias' voice; he was singing. Aurora followed it, listening to the words.

"_**Maybe it's intuition  
But some things you just don't question.  
Like in your eyes  
I see my future in an instant.  
And there it goes  
I think I've found my best friend.  
I know that it might sound more than a little crazy  
But I believe... **_

I knew I loved you before I met you.  
I think I dreamed you into life.  
I knew I loved you before I met you.  
I have been waiting all my life."

Aurora soon came upon him. Dias was standing there on the top of the slope, watching the sun as it began its fall behind the mountains in the distance. She stood there, listening to his voice. A small smile formed on her face. Aurora's heart yearned that the words were meant for her, yet her mind dashed the thoughts away, not believing that Dias would return the feelings she kept hidden. Besides herself, Denya was the only one who knew.

"_**There's just no rhyme or reason  
Only this sense of completion.  
And in your eyes  
I see the missing pieces  
I'm searching for.  
I think I've found my way home.**"_

Dias turned then, having heard Aurora when she first approached. He smiled at her, trying to convey with his eyes the words he wished to tell her yet his mouth was afraid to form them. Instead, the song continued to flow forth. Dias prayed to the Valor that Aurora would understand.

"_**I know that it might sound more than a little crazy  
But I believe... **_

I knew I loved you before I met you.  
I think I dreamed you into life.  
I knew I loved you before I met you.  
I have been waiting all my life."

Aurora stared at Dias, shocked. Somehow she knew that he was not just singing a song; he was speaking to her. He reached out, brushing his hand against her cheek softly.

"**_A thousand angels dance around you.  
I am complete now that I've found you. _**

I knew I loved you before I met you.  
I think I dreamed you into life.  
I knew I loved you before I met you.  
I have been waiting all my life."

Dias cupped her face gently with both of his hands, whispering, "**_I loved you even before I met you, Aurora. From the moment I saw you in the Mirror, I was ever drawn to you. I've only now had the courage to tell you of this._**"

Remembering Denya's words, he kept his eyes trained on her brown orbs, their gaze making his head swim with heat. They searched his face as Aurora said hesitantly, "**_I've longed to hear those words, Dias. For so long._**" Though there was a bit of fear in them, Dias saw something that made him chuckle.

That brought her out of her trance. "**_What?_**" she asked, raising a brow on confusion.

Dias smiled tenderly, kissing her. Aurora seemed to melt in his arms as they slid to loosely hold her around the waist. Her hands held the front of his tunic, pulling him closer as she responded to him. They broke away, Dias touching his forehead to hers and saying, "**_Your eyes are true blue._**"

---

Dias watched the door in front of him, worry clawing at his mind. Clad stood by the door, a silent sentinel as he always was. On the other side was Anex, the newest addition to the Guild, his visible green eye narrowed in deep thought.

Dias closed his eyes, willing the muted crying coming from the other side of the door to cease. Unable to take anymore, he straightened and headed downstairs to help the others clean up. They were at an inn, having stopped there because a group of Reapers had begun to track them. They had come to this inn seeking only room for a week or so.

What had greeted them could only be described as mysterious and frustrating beyond measure.

Dias carefully made his way past the broken tables and crushed chairs that littered the tavern that took up the first level of the inn. Auron, Aurora, Darin, and Rali were there, helping the inn's owner clean up. The owner was a surprisingly young woman named Anna. Her long brown hair was pulled back under a handkerchief, her dark yet kind eyes filled with worry as she went around the room. Aurora saw Dias come in and came up to him. "**_Anything?_**" she said expectantly.

Dias shook his head. "**_She's still in there with him._**"

Aurora bit her lip, an uncertain look on her face. "**_Are you sure it's safe to leave Denya alone with him? What if he does this again?_**" She motioned to the wreckage.

Dias drew her closer to him, drawing comfort in her presence. Truth be told, he did not think it was an ideal move yet he was not going to go against Denya's own decision. Dias kissed the top of Aurora's head, tucking it under his chin. He could feel her tensed muscles relaxing slowly. "**_She can take care of herself. Don't worry,_**" Dias tried to assure her.

At that point, Anna approached them. "I can't tell you enough times how grateful I am," she said to Aurora. She sighed, wringing her hands. "I never expected that he would do this," she said mostly to herself, looking around the room with tear veiled eyes.

Aurora stepped away from Dias to lay a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "We'll help him in every way we can, Anna. Trust us."

Anna nodded before going back to work. Anex's voice called down from the stairs that Denya had come out of the room. All of them rushed up the stairs to hear what she had to say.

---

It was obvious something was greatly disturbing Denya. When the others came into the room Anna had rented to them they found her seated at a table, her head propped in her hands as she stared at the table. Denya looked up at them and they saw her eyes were bloodshot.

"Denya!" Aurora gasped, rushing to her friend's side. "What happened? Did he hurt you? Are you all right?"

Denya smiled weakly and said, "I'm fine, I'm fine." She stood, shooing Aurora away. "I need Dias to come with me."

Dias blinked, surprised, but followed her back to the door Clad still stood guard over. Denya opened the door and led him in. He looked around the room, noticing the bed looked like it had not been touched in years, before focusing his eyes on the one seated in a chair against the back wall.

It was an Elf with grimy blonde-brown hair that hung around his head in all directions. His head was tilted to the side yet his eyes could be seen amid the tangled locks. They were more than likely a brown or hazel color, but they were dull and void of life. His hands were laid limply on his knees. He did not acknowledge the other two. He simply stared at the empty space in front of him. Had it not been for the slight rise and fall of his chest, one would think he was dead.

"Check his aura," Denya said to Dias, catching his attention.

"Why?" Dias asked.

"Do it," Denya said, eyes narrowing.

Slightly confused, he did so. "There's nothing there, " Dias said after a while. "He's not under the influence of a spell, he's not cursed--nothing."

Denya cursed, biting her thumbnail as was her habit when something was seriously wrong. She turned and walked back out the door, Dias hurrying to catch up to her.

When they were back in the room with the others, Denya sat down on the bed, raking her hands through her hair. "I think I know what might be wrong with him," she said at long last.

They all leaned forward expectantly, Anna nervously swallowing to moisten her dry throat.

Denya took a breath before she said, "I've only seen it a few times, but its definitely similar. I believe he's dying. Of a broken heart."

Silence, then, "How can that be?" Anna exploded, tears falling down her face. "How?"

Denya held up a hand, pitying the poor woman. "As I said," she said gently, "I'm not certain. There must be something else wrong."

"Or else he would have already died," Auron said, understanding what Denya meant. "Something is keeping him alive and is probably the reason for his catatonic state."

Denya nodded. "It's like he in a permanent state of shock and it's prolonging his death."

"...mental," Darin suddenly muttered. Everyone turned to him. "A mental shock," the Wood-Elf elaborated said. "When I was...in the prison," he said slowly, glancing at Anna for her reaction; there was none, "I had a cell mate that was like this. They said he had suffered some kind of mental shock. He did not wish to accept that he had done to warrant prison. His mind shut off from the world in order to cope."

"Can't he be helped?" Anna said.

Auron and Denya exchanged glances. "We don't know," Denya said. "The only way I see it is if we were able to first stop the grief from consuming him and then break him out of his shock. But I don't know--"

"Entwater."

They turned to the one who spoke. Aurora shifted uneasily. "I---I think Entwater might help. It can strengthen a person greatly, maybe enough to where he won't die from grief."

"Where do we get it?" Anex asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"From the Forest of Fangorn," Aurora said. "Home of the Ents."

At those words, Dias froze. A long forgotten memory stirred within him. One of the visions from the Mirror had been of Denya and Aurora surrounded by Ents. The creatures were so large and too many for them to have even hoped to escape.

"I know the way," Aurora continued. "I'll go and get some."

"I'll come too," Denya said, standing up. She grinned, "Better to travel in company than alone.

"Me too," Dias spoke up. "I will come as well." If the vision was indeed true, he would not let the two face the danger alone.

---

They set out immediately, knowing that with the change of seasons close at hand, they might be delayed. It only took them a week and a half to reach the forest, traveling nonstop and eating while they ran. Dias was thankful for being an Elf. Had they been of the race of Man it might have taken a month to get there, maybe more.

They entered slowly, cautiously into the forest. Denya and Dias had their weapons drawn, this being their first time into the forest. Aurora walked straight into it, unafraid. She had been down this way several times and knew where to find the Entwater they needed. They were all silent, in unspoken agreement that they should not talk unless need be.

They had gone quite a ways in when Dias felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He spun around but saw nothing. He turned back, seeing Denya had sensed it too. It happened again soon after, this time all three reacting. Aurora had a scared look on her face. "What is going on?" she whispered to herself. "This has never happened before!"

Before they could reply, the earth began to shake. From the darkness of the trees, several forms took shape. Dias felt his face pale. How were they going to get out of this alive? At his side, Denya tensed, readying her dagger for the throw.

Aurora gasped, pushing Denya aside and running closer to one of the Ents. "Quickbeam! Treebeard!" she shouted, waving her arms. "It's me! Aurora!"

"Aurora!" Denya hissed. "Get away!"

"Ho hrm," a deep voice sounded, causing the three to freeze in their places. "Pardon us. We acted a bit hasty. But then again, we've only been home for a few days since leaving Isengard and found a few foul creatures here. We thought you to be with them. Hrm." One of the Ents stepped forward, his dark eyes on Aurora. He smiled in an odd way. "It has been a long time, Aurora. Forgive our hasty actions."

Aurora smiled back. "That's okay. I'd probably do the same thing in your place." She then grew serious and said, "We need to talk to you. It's a matter of life and death, so please excuse us if we're acting hurried but we've really no time."

Treebeard nodded his huge head, understanding. "Come with me then," he said, bending down top pick Aurora up. He did the same with Denya and Dias, Denya sitting on his shoulder. "You can start your tale on the way."

---

As Treebeard took them to his ent-house, Aurora told him what they suspected to be wrong with the Elf. The Ent was silent, only speaking when he asked a question pertaining to the Elf's ailment. They reached the ent-house, Treebeard setting them on the huge table as Auron reached the end of her tale.

"And you think the Entwater might help this Elf?" Treebeard asked after a long time of thought, during which Denya fell asleep, exhausted and thankful for a little time to rest.

"Well," Aurora said, fidgeting, "I'm not sure. Do you know how the Entwater reacts to creatures other than Ents?"

Something within the old being's eyes glittered, the crack of his mouth creaking as he smiled again. "I believe your earlier guess was correct, Aurora."

Aurora blinked. "My earlier guess?"

"Remember the last time you came? You asked me the same question." Before Aurora could reply, he stood, saying, "Your road has been long and hard, you should rest before going back. I will collect a sufficient amount of the water for you, so sleep easy as your other friend is doing."

---

Long into the night, Treebeard stood outside the ent-house, deep into his own thoughts. Then, like a warm summer breeze, a voice flitted into being, softly at first, then growing in strength. The Ent turned to see who's voice it was. Sitting within the vast branches of a nearby tree was Denya. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms hugging them as she went on, singing softly to herself, her eyes hollow as she sang out her thoughts to the night air.

"**_Desperate for changing.  
Starving for truth.  
I'm closer to where I started  
Chasing after you. _**

I'm falling even more in love with you  
Letting go of all I've held onto.  
I'm standing here until you make me move.  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you.

Forgetting all I'm lacking  
Completely incomplete.  
I'll take your invitation  
You take all of me now.

And...I'm falling even more in love with you  
Letting go of all I've held onto  
I'm standing here until you make me move.  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you.

I'm living for the only thing I know.  
I'm running and not quite sure where to go.  
And I don't know what I'm diving into  
Just hanging by a moment here with you.

There's nothing else to lose.  
There's nothing else to find.  
There's nothing in the world  
That can change my mind.  
There is nothing else.  
There is nothing else.  
There is nothing else.

Desperate for changing.  
Starving for truth.  
I'm closer to where I started  
Chasing after you.

I'm falling even more in love with you..." Denya ended, sniffing against the tears that brimmed her eyes.

"Such a sad song, Lady Elf."

Denya smiled a bit, looking at the Ent. "Yeah, I guess it is," she said in a soft voice.

"Was it for an Elf Lad you left at your home?"

Denya looked down, quiet for a while. "No," she said at last. "It is for the love I will never know. Death will claim me before I will ever know love."

"Such a hasty statement," Treebeard said with a frown. "What makes you say it, hrm?"

"Because I am hollow," Denya said, gazing into the Ent's deep eyes. "I live for one reason alone: revenge. Who would want to love an empty being?" She laid her head down on her arms, staring at the trees around them.

Treebeard was silent. Denya glanced at him after a while, curious as to what he was thinking. His expression made her think he was recalling something, like a memory buried deep in his ancient mind was coming back to him. Then Treebeard spoke.

"_Twice the courage of an Elf,  
The one to be placed on a shelf.  
Many times the heart of a Man,  
Yet halved when taking a stand._"

Denya blinked. "What sort of riddle is that?" she asked.

Treebeard smiled knowingly. "A riddle you will find the answer to when the time is right."

---

Dias breathed deep, the humid air of the Fangorn Forest filling his lungs pleasantly. He leaned his head back, basking in the light of the sunset peeking through the branches sheltering him. It had been too long since he last smell genuine 'tree air.'

An unbidden memory of another breath of 'tree air' flashed before his eyes, causing a stab of loss in his chest. It had been so long since he had last thought of the Lorien Forest. Memories of his childhood and later years dwelling there floated by in his mind. Dias wondered whatever had happened to his mother and father. What of Rumil? Haldir, was he well? Did he think of Dias anymore? And Orophin as well?

And what of Lady Galadriel? How did his former teacher fare?

"**_Dias!_**"

The Lorien Elf looked around as Aurora bounded over the great tree root he was sitting beside. She had a jug attached to her hip and her traveling bag slung over her shoulder. "**_Aren't you ready?_**" she asked, looking around for his bags.

"**_Bags're still with Treebeard,_**" Dias said.

His somber tone must have shown through. Aurora stopped, giving him a concerned frown. "**_What's the matter?_**" she said, immediately dropping her parcels to the ground and crouching beside him.

Dias chuckled at the suddenness of her mood change. "**_Just thinking, Aurora. Nothing more._**"

Aurora bit her lip, obviously not believing him.

They were silent for a long time, Aurora studying him for a hint to his solemn attitude and Dias staring into nothingness, mind working through his recent thinking. Then Denya's faraway voice called for them. Aurora sighed, shifting to stand.

Dias' arm shot out. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down. Aurora stumbled, giving an 'Eep!' of surprise as she landed in his lap awkwardly. Before she could say anything, Dias cupped her face and brought his own down in a fierce kiss.

Heat flowed through Aurora's body, contrasting quite nicely with the chill the emitted from Dias when their bodies met. She never grew tired of touching him, just to feel that paradox. How could such a single, cold touch ignite a burning desire?

Aurora's free hand tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as she opened her mouth for him to explore. The soft purr he gave sent a shiver down her spine.

Aurora was so certain he would take her there on the ground of the Forest---and she was willing, make no mistake---that she was more than a little confused when instead he pulled back.

"**_Dias?_**" she breathed quietly. The kiss had winded her, as they always did, yet she could tell he was still troubled about something.

"**_I'm ready._**"

Aurora blinked, not comprehending.

"**_I'm ready, Aurora,_**" Dias said again. "**_I---I want to join._**"

Aurora's shock swiftly turned into joy. "**_About time!_**" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "**_Auron was wondering if you would ever make up your mind._**" She paused, considering something. "**_What did make you decide?_**"

Dias shrugged. "**_Felt it was time,_**" he said simply.

She grinned before swooping down on him and kissing him again, kindling the fire back into life.

Denya stomped over not too long after, irate at the delay and amused at how she had found him. Straightening his clothes, Dias met Aurora's eyes and they shared a smile. Climbing over tree roots, Dias let out a deep breath.

He prayed Aurora would not ask the question again. He did not think he could lie to her a second time. Looking over his shoulder, Dias spied the sunset through the trees. Once more he felt a pang of loss.

As he had been sitting there, reminiscing of his former home, Dias had been startled when he realized that he no longer considered Lothlorien his home. The fact shocked him and annoyed him as he had not considered it at all this whole time. Possibly he had been fighting the thought of abandoning his birth land. Yet right then, sitting with Aurora, he knew that he only felt at home at her side. He never wanted to be left again nor did he want to leave her.

Joining the Thieves Guild would take care of both of those concerns.

---

They returned and administered the treatment to the Elf. It worked, slowly but surely, it worked. The Elf was brought out of his shock and the Entwater strengthened his body against the grief. He did not tell them what had happened, but he did thank them.

A few days afterwards, when they were on their way to leave, the Elf stopped them. "I wish to join your group," he said, surprising them.

"What?" Denya said, the most shocked out of them all. Dias frowned at her, wondering the reason behind her surprise.

"I want to join your group," the Elf said again. "I will do whatever I have to, I just want to join."

All eyes turned to Auron, who smiled and said, "Why not? After all, Dias has agreed to join as well yet needs to prove himself. It may be best for you both to pair up for this. If you succeed, we will accept you. What is your name again?"

"Tan."

----------

A. N. -- 'I Knew I loved you Before I Met You' belongs to Savage Garden.

' Hanging By A Moment belongs to Lifehouse.


	19. Chapter XV Part V: The Shunned Identity

Chapter Fifteen - Part V: The Shunned Identity

"_Masks we wish to vanish,  
Masks that are our forgiving faces._"

It was not easy living in a town that did not hide their hatred of you.

Yet Rali had been dealing with it for a while, so he had become immune to it. One of the reasons the town let him stay was that he served as the town protector; he had proved on more than one occasion that he was able enough to be so. Nonetheless, they did little to make him feel welcomed.

There was only one person who did. Her name was Leanne. Her hair was like golden silk; her blue eyes were large, always laughing. She did not fear Rali, even though many of the children her age did. She frequently came to his cabin on the edge of town, chatting wildly as only a five-year-old could do, and following him where ever he went, some times helping him with different chores that needed to be done if she could. She often called him her Angel, believing that the Valar had sent him to her village for a reason.

There were many that preferred her to cease such things, her parents the least of which, but the people had an understanding that everyone in the town, young or old, made decisions for themselves. No matter how much she was teased or scolded, she simply refused to give in to them.

Even Rali himself had said she would be better off if she stopped visiting him. To which she replied, "So? I know you're not bad like they say. Why should I go away?" Her blunt, straightforward answer surprised him. To the Half-Elf, she showed intelligence that far surpassed her young age.

An intelligence that one day showed him that there was hope for humans.

Rali was chopping wood for his fireplace, Leanne running around and picking up any dry sticks she found. She paused long enough to say, "Rali? Will you sing a song?"

Rali stopped, straightening and looking at her. "A song?" he said.

Leanne nodded, grinning.

Rali chuckled. "All right. But only if you sing one for me later. Fair enough?"

"Yea!" Leanne cheered, jumping up and down. "Sing the one about the Elves again! I love that one!"

Her enthusiasm caused him to laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "You never tire of that song, do you?"

"Nope!" It was indeed one of her favorites. It was an old Elvish song, one that spoke of days long gone by, that Rali had even taught her to sing in its original language but she preferred hearing Rali sing it.

So Rali continued his work, singing the song in his strong voice. Leanne went on as well, joining in her favorite parts when she felt like it.

When Rali was finished with the wood he began to bring it inside, knowing that there would be a snowstorm pretty soon and dry wood was more useful than wet wood. Leanne followed, placing her bundle of sticks beside the fireplace. She hunched down in front of the hearth, rubbing her hands together to warm them before she arranged some of the sticks in a circle in the hearth for a fire.

"Will you sing now?" Rali asked.

Leanne turned, nodding, then went back to work, singing in her small, sweet voice. Rali stopped in the doorway. There was one more load of wood then it would all be in, but he waited, listening.

"_Snow can wait, I forgot my mittens.  
Wipe my nose, get my new boots on.  
I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter.  
I put my hand in my father's glove. _

I run off where the drifts get deeper,  
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown.  
I hear a voice "You must learn to stand up for yourself,  
'Cause I can't always be around.

He says: When you gonna make up your mind?  
When you gonna love you as much as I do?  
When you gonna make up your mind?  
'Cause things are gonna change so fast.  
All the white horses are still in bed.  
I tell you that I'll always want you near.  
You say that things change, my dear.

Boys get discovered as winter melts,  
Flowers competing for the sun.  
Years go by and I'm here, still waiting,  
Withering where some snowman was.

Mirror, Mirror, where's the crystal palace?  
But I only can see myself."

Leanne stopped, frowning. She leaned forward as if trying to see something in the hearth. Rali frowned, wondering what was wrong, when he heard the sound of her...sniffing? Before he could ask, she said, "Rali. Something's smelly in here."

"What?" Rali said, coming up beside her.

"Something's smelly in here," Leanne said again, moving to the side so he could see. "It smells like oil. Dirty oil."

Instantly Rali knew what it was. "Orcs!" he snarled, snapping up. He snatched up his double-headed ax and ran for the door, shouting to Leanne over his shoulder, "Stay here! Do not leave for anything!"

"But--"

"Stay!" he ordered.

Leanne stopped in the doorway, calling after him, "Be careful!"

---

Despite the fact that he lived close by, the village was swamped with Orcs by the time Rali got there. He got to 'work' immediately, cutting through all the Orcs in his path. He could see the villagers had already evacuated for the most part, though he did find the remains of some that had not been fast enough.

Rali fought his way into the center of the village when suddenly the Orcs seemed to retreat away from him, hovering around the edges of the various buildings at a safe distance. They neither attacked him nor ran any further as they began muttering to each other in their foul language. Through the numerous ramblings, he was able to hear a single word repeated many times. What caught his attention was that it was not an Orc word.

_He'Ja._

Rali frowned, cautiously turning in a circle to look at all the Orcs. They swayed in the places, eyes transfixed on him. The slightest trace of fear prickled at Rali's scalp. He had no experience in such events, but he was almost certain that the Orcs were trying to summon something. His grip tightened on his ax. What was it?

Then, as one, all the Orcs froze. Rali tensed, anticipating an attack.

The sound of glass shattering and metal crashing to the ground behind him was closely followed by the distinctive roar of a sweeping fire. The Half-Dwarf spun around, the Orcs shrieking in surprise before running off, and saw the barn he had been standing by was covered in flames. His eyes saw a black form in the flames, standing there.

"Time to get a new job," the deep voice spoke, accompanied by a flash of red where the eyes would be.

"Who are you?" Rali demanded.

"My name is of no meaning," it said. "Or rather," it went on, as if to itself, "it has no meaning." Then, it disappeared.

Rali had little time to ponder what was going on because the fire was spreading to the other buildings.

---

The fire burned for several hours. The villagers were able to contain it, though many of the buildings were beyond repair. And--though it did little to surprise him--Rali received the brunt of the village's anger.

"If you hadn't gone around swinging that ax of yours, you wouldn't have started that fire!"

Rali stared down the man yelling furiously at him, mentally counting to ten before replying, "I did not start the fire. I've already told you--"

"Don't even try!" the man interrupted. "You expect us to believe that an Orc or whatever it was you saw started it? You've got no witnesses to prove what you're saying isn't a lie!"

"You've got no witnesses saying I started the fire," Rali pointed out bluntly.

"Listen, you--"

"I have been listening."

The man grabbed handfuls of his own hair, making frustrated shouts.

"Just admit your wrong," someone around them spoke up.

"Yeah, take the consequences for nearly destroying our homes!" said another.

"Troublemaker."

"Freak!"

"You were probably behind the Orcs to begin with!"

Rali did nothing in response to the words flung at him. He had faced harsher times before; he could certainly handle this.

"Stop it! He's not lying!" a small voice cried out. Leanne came running in from the crowd. She grabbed the man in front of Rali by the hand, saying, and "He's not lying He's telling the truth!"

"Stay out of this, Leanne," the man said under his breath. The crowds were staring at her, suspicion in their eyes.

Rali inwardly smirked at the man. _What goes around comes around,_ he thought.

"No!" the little girl said, shaking her head. "No! He's not lying! He didn't start the fire!"

"Shut up!"

"No!" Leanne said again, letting him go and standing in front of Rali. "I won't shut up!" She small body seemed to be shaking, from what Rali could not tell, as she said, "He didn't do anything bad!"

"Leanne--" the man started.

"He's not bad! He's not!"

"Shut UP!"

"NO! I won't let you hurt him! I won't let you hurt my Angel anymore, Daddy!"

"If you say another word--"

"NO!"

The man slapped her across the face. Several gasps came from the spectators as the child reeled, falling to the ground. Leanne stared at her father in disbelief, hand pressed against her swelling cheek.

Quicker than a snap, Rali had the man up against the wall of the house, hand around his throat. The Half-Dwarf stared down at him with a cold glare. "I've been tolerant," he said at length, silencing the startle cries the others had made in fear, "because so far you've only threatened me. I do not care about what you do to me. However," his grip tightened as his voice lowered, "no one--_NO ONE_--ever has any right to strike a child." Rali brought the struggling man closer to his face. "Understand?" he whispered. The man nodded as best he could. "Good." Rali dropped him unceremoniously to the ground.

Turning on his heel, Rali began his walk to his house, saying over his shoulder, "You won't have to put up with me anymore. With the village burned down, I seem to be out of a job."

---

"Why bother going to another village?" Rali said out loud as he went about his house, packing a large bag. "This will happen again, I'm sure of it." He frowned, "He'Ja, or whatever it was that started the fire, it seemed to know me. It'll probably follow." With a sigh, he threw his bag over his shoulder, picked up his ax, and left the house, thinking, _I guess it's back to square one._

Rali looked back at the village, shook his head sadly, and turned. He began his way up the hill, to the vast, open plains that went on for leagues until the next town. He had just reached the top, when he heard someone behind him.

Leanne was struggling up the hill, tugging an overstuffed pack with her.

The sight made Rali smile. He sat down on the top of the hill, calling, "What are you doing?"

"Coming with you!" she huffed, straining against the weight of her burden. "I--I don't want to stay here!" She finally managed to pull it all the way up and nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

"Why?" Rali asked.

Leanne made a face, gently touching the bruise on her cheek. "...stupid."

"Hm?"

"'Cause they're all stupid," Leanne said clearly.

"What makes you say that, Leanne?" Rali said, interested in her proclamation.

"They won't listen," Leanne said, looking back at the remains of the village.

Rali shook his head in amusement. "Just because they won't listen doesn't mean they're stupid."

"I know that," Leanne said softly, beginning to pace. "It's not that they won't listen. It's that they won't listen to you, or to me. They think we lie because I'm little and you're not even Elf or Dwarf."

Leanne stopped, suddenly crouching to the ground. She hurriedly wiped her face of the tears that fell from her blue eyes. "They--They think that whatever's not li--like them is--is bad," she stuttered. "But you're not bad!" she sobbed. "You're nice! You're kind! You helped them, but they treated you badder than the Orcs! That's why they're stupid!"

"Leanne," Rali said gently, causing her to look up at him, "you can't come with me."

"Why?" she said, sniffing. "Why can't I?"

Rali did not answer. Truth be told, he wanted her with him. He had spent years before alone and was not particularly fond of the solitude. Not only that, but Leanne had never pretended to like being with him. He knew that she would not leave him or even regret her decision if she accompanied him.

So why was he telling her no?

"Do you believe that I'm not bad?" Rali said suddenly.

The child blinked, the question catching her off guard. "I don't understand," she said slowly.

"Do you believe that I'm bad?"

"No!" Leanne said, loudly and quickly. "You're not bad! My daddy doesn't know you, that's why he said those mean things!" The tears began to build again as she tried to speak through them. "Daddy just doesn't like things that are different. If he can't understand it, he thinks it's bad. But you're not," she said again, scrubbing her face with her hands.

"That is why you mustn't come with me," Rali said, laying a hand on her head. She looked up, confused. "You know I'm not bad," he explained. "You know that being different does not make someone bad. But your father, and a lot of the others, don't know this. You must stay here and teach them. Do you understand?"

Hesitantly, as her face screwed up with a fresh wave of tears, Leanne nodded.

Rali smiled, then stood. "Go back to your father," he said. She slowly backed away, reluctant. Seeing his presence was what held her, Rali turned, going on his way. "Goodbye, Leanne," he said softly, not looking back.

"Goodbye, my Angel."

---

"Gimme another!"

"Sorry, but you've downed over two gallons. That's the limit--on both your alcohol tolerance and your money."

"Says who!"

"Says me. Now please leave or we will have you forcefully removed."

"Ha! Like you could do that, you puny little--H-Hey! What're ya doin'? Put me down!"

"Thank you and come again. Anything else, sir?"

Rali looked up at the barkeep as the drunk that had occupied the stool beside him was removed. "No," he said.

The barkeep frowned. "Something troubling you?"

The Half-Dwarf shrugged. "Not really," he said flatly, wishing the keep would leave him alone.

Normally, Rali was not snappy or avoided having a conversation. Today, he felt emotionally and mentally drained. He always felt like that on this day.

It had been exactly twelve years since he had left Leanne.

On this day, his mood soured, making him easily irritated and annoyed. One time, he had lashed out on a man for simply bumping into him. The next day, Rali realized it had been a complete accident on the man's part--he had been carrying a large sack of food, obstructing his vision--and thought the man lucky that Rali had not had his ax in hand.

Before the barkeep could say anything else, the doors to the place were thrown open noisily. All heads turned to see a group of men standing there, a sword hanging at each of their waists. All looked around with grins that said the same thing: trouble.

Several people in the place turned back around, intentionally avoiding eye contact.

The group then erupted into loud talking, making their way to a large booth on the side of the wall. They pushed past various people in their chairs around the place, some who were not even in their way. As they did so, Rali took the time to study their leader. Surprisingly, the leader was the shortest in the group, though still tall. That alone told Rali that there was more to him that met the eye. _Probably a good fighter,_ he thought. _Or a mage._ The sword he was wearing was thin--no. On closer look Rali saw it was simply lighter than normal sword of that make. They all sat down, their loud voices grated on his nerves.

Due to his heightened hearing, Rali heard the barkeep whisper something odd under his breath. Something Rali was sure he was not supposed to hear.

"_He'Ja_."

Rali snapped his eyes to the barkeep, who had a pleasant smile on his face and seemed not to mind the rowdy bunch that had just walked through. Casually, Rali looked around. His sharp eyes caught sight of those who responded to the word.

One of the waitresses tugged her ear minutely while disguising the gesture in a hand sweep to push her hair back.

A man busing the tables 'dropped' a plate he had, then stuck his foot out to prevent it from crashing and making noise.

The two people standing by the doorway, bouncers, shifted their positions: one stayed there, hand now resting on his sword and weight evened over his thick, muscled legs, and the other seemed to disappear.

There were various others scattered through the place, but those were probably of no meaning. But the aforementioned ones confused Rali. They had been deliberate. He looked back at the leader of the group, who threw his head back and loud loudly at something one had said. There, on the right side of his neck, was the image of a skull, a bloodied dagger piercing it from above. Flames surrounded it and flowed lower, disappearing under the man's collar. Then Rali understood:

The man was wanted in Gondor for some crime against Denethor. The price was quite high, even considering what he had done.

And there were bounty hunters here.

What the barkeep had said must have been a code or something. Still, was that not the same thing the Orcs had called that being?

The 'waitress' that had pulled her ear, keeping to the image she was portraying, came up to the group and asked if they were ready to order something. One looked her up and down, a perverted expression on his face. As she turned to head into the kitchen, the man's hand went out and grabbed her rear.

She gasped, then spun back around and whacked the man over the head with the tray in her hands. The man seemed unfazed, laughing loudly with the others. The girl's face paled as the man stood, leaning over her in a threatening manner. He grabbed by the wrist, then roughly pushed her onto a table behind her. Encouraged by the cheers his group gave him, he began to carry out the act he had every intention of doing, crowded room or not.

Before he got very far, a shot glass slammed against his head. The force sent him tumbling off the poor girl, who scrambled up and ran to hide behind the bar, the barkeep moving in front of her protectively. The man shakily got back up, glaring. "Who threw that?" he demanded, looking around.

Innocent bystanders--which were the majority of the occupants--stared hard at their drinks, not wanting to be accused. "Well?" the man said, tossing the table to the side, his eyes circling the room. They stopped, meeting the gaze of the one.

Rali kept his eyes leveled on the man's, allowing no emotion to show. Rali had not wanted to interfere, but the barkeep's reactions to the scene caused him to pause. When the man stared at the waitress, the keep growled low in his throat. When the man grabbed her, the keep's hand tightened around a glass in his hand. And when the man had pushed her onto the table, the glass cracked.

If someone did not see what those simple actions told, they were blind: the barkeep had feelings for the waitress. Maybe it was because Rali spent was in sour mood and needed an outlet; maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever the cause, Rali had thrown the shot glass for sole reason that the barkeep was angered.

"You wanna start something?"

Rali was brought back to the present. He found himself surrounded by members of the group, all glaring at him. He barely glanced at them all before returning to his drink, saying, "Not particularly."

The one he had hit moved his hand to his sword. "Why you--"

"Stop."

The group spun around, facing the large bouncer standing there. His hand hovered over his sword; otherwise there was no sign he meant any harm.

Not wanting to draw any more attention, Rali set his money on the bar as payment for his drink and swiftly moved past them, heading to the door. More of the group stopped him a few feet away from it. He sighed inwardly, _Why am I not surprised?_ He moved to draw his ax. Personally, Rali did not mind the fight. What he _did_ mind was having to pay for damages to the tavern in the aftermath of the fight.

One of them charged. Rali stepped to the side, drawing his ax. "Go to sleep," he said, thumping the man on the head with the dull part of his ax and rendering him unconscious. He heard another, trying to silently slice is head off. Rali swung his ax backwards, flipping it so the broad part met the man's sword, shattering it. He ducked a wing swing from a third and swept him off his feet. He caught a fourth in the crook of one of his ax's blades and threw him backwards, slamming into a wall where he fell to the floor, alive but asleep. Rali stood and faced the others, eyes narrowed in challenge. However, the remaining ones were staring at him in fear, suddenly realizing his strength.

"You don't seem like an ordinary 'traveler'." Rali looked to the source of the words and found the leader walking around towards him. In his hands, his sword. "But I'll enjoy testing you," he said, mouth tipped in a cocky grin.

"How can you evaluate me if you are dead?" Rali asked, tightening his grip on his ax. The leader simply shrugged then fell into an offensive stance.

"No one starts a fight in my bar!"

Neither the man nor Rali had time to search for the new voice. A flash of smoke and powder erupted in front of Rali, sending all within a close proximity into a coughing fit. Within the smoke, a lithe, fairly tall figure stepped out. The figure pointed a gloved hand at the leader, saying, "You're free days are up!"

"What?" the man exclaimed, looking the figure up and down as if he doubted the statement to be true.

The figure said no more. A quick snap of the wrist and something went flying to the man, who did not see it. A metallic ring echoed off the walls in the room, then the man was sent flying back and struck the wall. He was pinned there by three steel half-rings; each of his arms held back by one and another around his mouth, keeping him from speaking and anchoring his head to the wall.

The gang stared in surprise, then, getting their wits, began to attack and/or free their leader.

"Now!" the figure shouted, raising an arm for a signal.

The barkeep vaulted over the bar, a staff in hand. Bolts of lightening shot from his staff, encircling three of the gang, his other hand was outstretched towards another group of five, their feet frozen to the floor by a thick sheet of ice.

The large bouncer struck, so quickly no one could see it, and four fell, unconscious.

The waitress stood on the bar, the arrow in her bar poised at the skull of one who had tried to hide there.

The busboy pulled a large Bo from seemingly empty space, knocking six men off their feet.

A form dropped from the rafters overhead, throwing knives flying in all directions which caught the remaining men on their spines or chests, paralyzing them.

All this happened within seconds.

The room was silent with the occasional groan. Rali looked around before setting his gaze on the one in front of him, the one who had captured the bounty. It was a woman, possibly eighteen winters or younger. She had shimmering golden-orange hair and exotically green eyes; large and set within a heart-shaped face speckled with freckles. Her attire was of thin, multi-colored layers of cloth that looked like it was draped over her body. It was somewhat see through but she had tight garments on underneath it to keep some of her modesty. Over this was a blue cape underlined with bright red that fell to the floor from the gold clasps at her shoulders. Hanging from a loose belt of decorated leather around her slim waist were several rings like that she had thrown.

She cocked her pretty head to the side, frowning as she looked back at Rali. "The price for fighting in my bar is pretty high, sir," she said in an emotionless tone. It was easy to guess her morals, Rali noticed, but she now had the air of a businessman about her instead of an 'entertainer'.

"We'll pay, Elani," a voice said beside them.

The woman turned her head to the man standing there, surprised. "What? Why?" she exclaimed, obviously stunned.

The man was looking at Rali, an unreadable shine in his brown eyes, and said, "I have my reason." He straightened, holding out his hand, "Sir, I and my comrades have a proposition for you."

Rali looked at the hand warily. The ones that had taken care of the gang were now around them. The one who had thrown the daggers--an Elven girl with a piercing blue glow in her green eyes--said suddenly, "Why him, Auron? No offense," she added to Rali, "but from what I can tell, he hasn't come into contact with one of _them_." She stressed the last word, eyes flickering around.

"And from what I can tell," the one names Auron said in response, "he took out four men without causing death or serious injury. The worst were bruises." He turned back to Rali and watched him expectantly.

Rali glanced at the ones around him, then at the hand offered to him. He raised his eyes to Auron and said as he took a firm hold of his hand, "What kind of proposition?"

----------

A. N. -- 'Winter' belongs to Tori Amos.


	20. Chapter XV Part VI: The Imperfect Ident...

Chapter Fifteen - Part VI: The Imperfect Identity

"_Masks we wish to kill,  
Masks that are our faces._"

In the lands to the East, live the Avari. Ever since Ancient times they have lived there, staying when the other Elves left for the Western parts past their world, not willing to leave the only life they knew. Hence the name 'avari', meaning 'unwilling'.

They never made cities and never had kings. In the forested areas, they lived together in nomadic Groups. Each group chose for their leader a 'Sword Master.' The qualifications for becoming a Sword Master included having the best abilities in the ways of the sword as well as the highest mental strength within the Group. The Sword Master was succeeded by an Apprentice Master that had been trained in the ways of the Sword Master to be the prime example for their people.

_Perfection itself_, if you will.

In one such Group, they had decided to make camp at one location for a month, an extremely long time. Their reason was that it was time to make the Apprentice Master the new Sword Master--the current one had failing health that made them decide to hasten the succession.

---

A young Avari woman smiled at an elder, speaking with him briefly before going on her way. She seemed to be walking casually, but there was a quickness in her step that hinted to her nervousness. Night was falling and she wanted to get back to her home.

She reached the make-shift 'house' that served as shelter for her and her family. Her children were all asleep in their pallets, but hers was untouched. Her husband was not there; nor had he been all day. She sank to the floor, rubbing her aching legs. It had been almost half a mile from here to the shrine, and she had not stopped once since she finished talking to the Sword Master. She sighed, running her hands through her sky blue hair as her eyes closed.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day. Tomorrow her husband would become the Sword Master and take over leadership of their Group.

Tomorrow...her world may crash all around her.

"**Idiot,**" she whispered out loud, squeezing her eyes tighter against the tears. "**You could have declined. You stupid idiot. You could have backed out.**"

"**It would not have been honorable.**"

She did not respond to the voice right away, but she leaned back against the man as he encircled his arms around her, hugging her tenderly. She kept her eyes away from his, not wanting him to see her cry. "**You and your honor,**" she scoffed half-heartedly. "**If it wasn't for that we wouldn't be in this mess. If you had just said something---**"

"**And ruin our lives when we needed it the most?**" he cut in gently. "**If I had declined, we would not have had the support we needed. The children would have starved sooner or later.**"

She stood, breaking from his warm embrace and facing him, eyes ablaze with anger though her voice quivered with her sadness. "**But what if they find out, Anex?**" she said. "**What if they see it? What if the Sword Master sees what you've hidden? What if they find out? What will happen then?**" The questions were rhetorical, of course. She knew perfectly well what would happen.

Anex stood as well, yet made no other move. He knew better than to approach his wife when she was like this. "**I will be given the punishment due for lying to our Group and the Sword Master. You and the children will be cared for. And that is all I want: your well fare.**"

"**But I want yours!**" she exclaimed softly, not daring to wake the sleeping forms beside them. "**If you are punished for this--THIS! Something you had no control over!--I do not want you to face it by yourself.**"

"**I will,**" he said firmly. "**If it happens, you will say nothing, you will do nothing. All right?**"

"**BUT---**"

"**Please,**" he said again, pleading with her.

She was silent, watery eyes on his as she contemplated her answer. At last, her shoulders sagged as she whispered, "**All right. I won't do anything.**"

Knowing she had calmed down now, Anex went to her, embracing her gently. She looked up, her hand brushing his sweeping bangs that shielded the right side of his face, her eyes briefly glowing. "**You stupid idiot,**" she choked out before succumbing to her grief.

---

The next morning, the entire settlement was up and about, even the old and feeble. Before that day would end, the would be a new Sword Master to lead them. The entire Group was crowded outside the shrine--which was just the place that the Sword master lived and nothing more. they lined the path to the steps, chattering excitedly as they waited for the Apprentice Master to appear. When he did, all grew quiet, watching him. No one dared to speak as he made his way down to the steps of the shrine and knelt.

The thick, heavy curtains that served as the walls and door to the shrine were pulled back by two attendants as the Sword Master came out. The Sword Master had a slight curve to his spine, showing not only his age but how frail he had become. He slowly made his way, feet shuffling, until he stood on the step before Anex. He cleared his throat, preparing to begin. Everyone leaned forward expectantly.

Then, to everyone puzzlement--and one particular Avari woman's horror--the Sword Master gave a start and leaned closer to Anex, scrutinizing him closely. Then he gasped, **_"What have you done?_**" Silence blanketed the area, then the whispers began.

Anex made no movement. In the back of his mind, he wanted to run but his training made him stay where he was. It had been his choice not to decline when asked the question so many years ago:

_Do you meet all physical requirements?_

Of course he did not, but the children had needed--

His thoughts were interrupted when the Sword Master grabbed his bangs, forcing them aside, revealing the cause for alarm.

Anex had no right eye.

There was a collective gasp from the parts of the crowd closest to them, which rippled out as they hurriedly passed the news. The Apprentice Master was marred, he was not perfect as he had told them.

He had _lied_.

"**Unforgivable!**" the Sword master shouted in a surprisingly strong voice. "**You have brought shame to our Group! How dare you!**" Similar shouts could be heard, the crowds mood turning sour, even violent.

No one saw a lone woman run out from the crowd, but several felt the tears falling from her eyes as she passed them.

---

The Sword Master motioned for the attendants to go on their own way. They left, eager to join the throng swiftly moving away from the shrine.

The Sword Master stood still for a moment in the center of the shrine. Slowly, his head turned this way and that, checking to make sure he was alone. Then he straightened, his spine smoothing out unnaturally. His hands rose to the back of his head.

The tips of his fingers dug deeply in to the flesh there, curling under it. Blood spurted out, beginning to collect on the floor, as he pulled his hands apart. He again straightened in a very unnatural way, torso elongated, his arms stretching out further than they should have. The skin around his elbows and wrists split, adding to the growing red pool under him. He continued to peel the skin off until he stood with the bloody mess around him.

Ke'Dab looked at the flesh in its hands, curiosity flickering in his soul-less red eyes. Its gaze shifted, laying on the other bloody mess in the shrine: the rest of the true Sword Master. Ke'Dab chuckled to itself, having enjoyed wearing another's skin.

_Well,_ it thought, _who does that leave?_ The Apprentice Master had been banished to the western lands, the most severe punishment one could ever receive as an Avari, and hopefully he would remain there. Then Zage's plan would work as he had said.

"One more to go," Ke'Dab grinned, biting off a chuck of the skin in his hands before tossing it to the ground and disappearing.

---

The caravan had been delayed due to another member dying from the disease that was spreading through the entire camp. Anex wordlessly went to his task and began to bury the dead. Due to his race, he was immune to this disease and they left him the job of disposing with the bodies.

He did not mind. The people in the caravan were headed to the west and had agree to let him travel with them on two conditions: that he do the aforementioned job as well as ward off any would-be attackers. It seemed to him, though, that they had more need for the former rather than the latter.

They were crossing a stretch of desert, dunes as far as one could see. Even though he knew the body would be uncovered with the passage of time, he dug deep into the sand before laying the body in it. He started to climb back out when he looked back, stroking the gray cheek of the young woman. Her face was contorted in pain, her last expression before death had claimed her. "**So young,**" he said, sighing. He shoveled the sand back over the hole, breathing a word of prayer.

Anex made his way back to the caravan. Something dark flashed across the light surface of the sand. He paused, seeing it heading towards the caravan, then broke out into a run. He reached it just as a shriek sounded. A woman came tumbling out from the back of a wagons, rambling about there being an Orc in the wagon. Anex jumped when he was close enough and landed in the back, facing the alleged Orc.

The Avari stopped for two reasons. One was because it was not an Orc.

The other was that he did not know what to make of it.

The form before him paid him no attention, continuing to rummage through the bags and sacks that occupied the wagon. It looked like a mass of clothes that were soiled beyond hope of cleaning. A head could bee seen at the top, shrouded in long, tangled, vermin infested hair. What really surprised Anex was that the thief had his head cocked upwards, staring into space the entire time he looted the wagon. Anex's sharp eye caught the tear stained cheeks under the matted hair and his anger cooled. It was obvious that something was wrong with the thief.

Before he could do anything, the thief suddenly leaped up into the air, over the edge of the wagon, and sprinted off, disappearing in seconds. Anex stared after the thief, shock because he had lost track of them in an instant.

"**Strange,**" he muttered.

---

The caravan finally reached its destination. The White City of Gondor. Anex parted company with them, wishing each other well, and headed out without any particular destination in mind. Had not gotten very far when his eyes caught sight of something on the ground.

_Blood._

He knelt to the ground, touching it. Dried, a few days old. He searched the ground for any more and found a trail of it leading off to the north. Looping around in a large sweep he found signs that there had been a fight in the area, starting more towards Gondor before moving off to that space. He could make out the tracks of several Elves, but what they had been fighting he could not guess. Those tracks were unlike anything he'd seen and he decided to leave that mystery unsolved. The owner of the blood, however, was his main concern.

Whoever it had been was seriously injured. They had run off, their allies chasing after them but they seemed to have the upper hand in speed and stamina. Of course if it had been any ordinary blood he would have shrugged it off and went on his aimless way. But the scent it gave off could only be one thing.

It was the blood of an Avari. Probably female.

Anex did not care that he had been banished by his own people, so he felt no anger. Instead, he felt a kinship towards this Avari. She was injured and since she was there, in the West, she might be more like him than he thought.

Mind set, he followed the trail. Running swiftly, he covered more ground. He saw that the blood retraced itself sometimes, arching to the right than moving back to the left in a straight line. He found a circle of blood that looped three times before going on. Anex was beginning to wander about this woman's sanity as the sun dawned on the second day of his trek.

His ears perked, catching the sound of voices and the smell of a camp fire causing him to slow.

---

Aurora ignored Darin's pitiful protest against her movements. Both Rali and Auron had to hold him down for her to remove the blood-stained bandage that covered his right side then apply the ointment that fought the infection he would get from the Reaper otherwise. Once the ointment dried, Darin stopped struggling and allowed Aurora to wrap his wound as he grumbled obscenities under his breath.

Paying no attention to him, Aurora finished and stood as she made her way back over to the fire, wincing when she put weight on her right ankle. She wished her Elven blood would make her immune to Reaper injuries, but of course it was useless.

"I don't see why you have to use that liquid fire!" Darin huffed. "Why do you only use it if a purple Reaper strike us?"

"She told me to," was all Aurora said, her eyes misting as they glanced to the side, the way that the blood trail continued on. How long had it been? A week? Two? She shivered, wishing Dias was there with her. Why did they have to leave him in the White City? She snorted. Because he was still unsure about joining, that was why. She sighed, closing her eyes tiredly.

Clad suddenly snapped to attention from his place under a tree, jerking the others out of their stupors. He drew his sword and got in an offense stance in one fluid motion, surprising everyone since he always went into a defensive stance. They only had time to get their hands on their weapons before they saw the reasons behind Clad's motions.

An Elf with light blue hair and a bright green eye appeared, as if instantaneously on the edge of their camp. He calmly looked over them, then said in a non-threatening voice, "I want to help the Avari woman."

The Guild exchanged nervous glances. He was after Denya?

Then, to everyone's shock, Clad eased up, sheathing his sword and raising a hand to point in the direction Denya had gone. The Elf nodded in thanks than rushed past them, gone before they could blink.

---

Anex did not have to go very far before he found her. She was propped against the trunk of a tree, her head tilted up. Her entire body was splashed with blood and daggers were clasped tightly in her fists, one was missing half of the blade. Her eyes were glowing blue amid the red on her young face.

He slowly approached her, noticing her mouth slightly open as she took short, erratic breaths. "**Little One,**" he said softly in Avari speech.

---

...denya...the arrow...red...red...so red...

_Denya! Stop! You're injured!_

...voices...nothing...fight...save her...keep her...alive...

_It's me: Aurora! Listen to me!_

...keep fighting...fight...kill...death...die..die...bastards...

_Denya stop!_

...clad?...no...innocent...did nothing to us...he helped...clad...

_You're bleeding everywhere! Stay still!  
_  
...can't...REAPER...KILL...KILL...KILL...KILL...KILL

_Oh, Valar, NO! Denya! Don't run! Denya!_

...KILL...KILL...KILL...KILL...KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL

_Don't chase him! That's what he wants!_

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KIL--

**_Little One._**

...mommy?

It's all right. You'll be fine.

...but i have to fight...

---

As soon as Anex had spoken those two words, there was a visible change in her. Her eyes began to dull, replaced with fatigue that could only come from blood lost and no energy. They moved sluggishly, looking for him. When they stopped, her head dropped to one side, wonder on her blood stained face.

"**Mommy?**" she whispered, a vague token of shock in her voice.

"**It's all right,**" was all Anex could say. "**You'll be fine.**"

"**Have to fight, Mommy,**" she said, voice slurring with her fatigue.

Anex studied her for a moment, then said soothingly, "**Why do you have to fight?**"

"**Denya can't die,**" she said, her voice beginning to crack as tears formed in her eyes. "C**an't let her die.**"

"**How will fighting keep her alive?**"

"**Reapers won't let her go. Alive only when I fight. Have to fight. So, she won't really die,**" she croaked the last sentence as her eyes drooped shut. Sleep finally conquered her and she started to snore softly.

Anex sat back on his heels, thinking. Though he had found her, he was compelled now to stay with her. Maybe it was simply because she was an Avari--or really part, seeing the blackish hue of her hair and the slight accent of her words--or it could be the mention of these Reapers. He had heard several tales of them from the caravan, dark creatures that seemed to be allied with the Orcs, possibly even the Dark Lord himself.

Yet why did that intrigue him so?

Shrugging, he carefully gathered the sleeping girl in his arms and went back to her comrades.

----------

A. N. -- In case you're wondering why Anex was kicked out, a sword Master has to be perfect in any and every way, mentally and physically. And it's a birth defect, so no scar. As stated, the Avari is copy right Tolkien, as is the fact that they still live in the East. I made up everything else, including the features, the whole Sword Master thing, and whether or not they have their own language. Work with it.


	21. Chapter XV Part VII: The Enigma Identit...

Chapter Fifteen - Part VII: The Enigma Identity

"_Masks we wish to keep,  
Masks that hide our painful faces._"

Anna hated the marketplace.

Bodies crammed into tight, narrow streets. Screaming babies. Loud children. Yelling mothers and drunkards. And, worst of all, obnoxious merchants shouting over each other, overpricing items they say no one can live without.

Yet she knew she had to go into the marketplace at least once a week. With winter coming there would be more visitors at her inn and she needed to keep the pantry and bar filled. At least she knew which merchants did not over price their items too much. A few she even managed to make friends with. There was one however that did nothing but annoy and repulse her.

Ed.

Ed was a fat, greasy man that sold fruit. Her reasons for hating him ran deeper than just his high prices. The man constantly harassed her sexually. The only thing that had kept him from outright raping her was that someone else always intervened in the nick of time.

Anyway, Anna left the inn, hoping for only a quick trip to the marketplace. Things she noticed were less than usual. There were not as many people out and the noise was considerably lower than normal. She shrugged, dismissing it. She made her usual round to all the vendors she stopped at, chatting pleasantly to her friends.

It was not long before Anna was close to Ed's stand. She lingered at the bread stand that was by his, debating whether or not to go back to the inn. There were still a few more things she needed to get but she was not in the mood to deal with Ed. Anna glanced over at the vendor, then she stopped. Something was different about him. He usually was the loudest person in the market, saying something to any and every one who passed by. Today, though, he just sat in the back of his stand, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at all who passed.

Anna stared for a moment, his behavior so unlike him that it shocked her. Then she turned back, asking the bread seller for a few loaves. She secured the loaves in her sack and took a breath, hurrying past the fruit stand.

Ed did nothing. He did not even look at her.

Anna let out her breath when she was a bit away, relieved. Something caught her eye, making her pause by an alley: a shadow within the shadows, tucking out of sight. She frowned, but shrugged.

Anna started back on her way when she heard crashing and yelling coming from behind her. She turned to see the fruit stand had been knocked over, Ed shouting furiously in anger at someone laying on the ground. She managed to pick out in Ed's ramblings that the person had tried to steal an apple. The large man grabbed the person by the back of their soiled tunic and yanked them up before tossing them. They skidded to a stop by Anna.

Anna stifled a gasp at the person's condition. She had figured it was a homeless person by the condition of the clothes and it appeared that she was correct. The thin, wasted body was covered in old, torn, dirty clothes that was barely above the state of rags. The hair was long, down past the waist, and filthy. It was full of mats, tangles, and possibly vermin as well. The hair also covered the top half of the thief's face and the rest was so dirty Anna could not tell whether it was male or female.

"Well!" Ed shouted, bringing Anna back to the present. "You gonna pay or what, you little thief?"

The thief lay there, unresponsive. Anna saw Ed begin to advance and sympathy washed through her. She quickly knelt beside the prone form and said to Ed in a heated tone, "Back off! Something's wrong! Can't you see that!" Not waiting for his reply, she turned to the person. She gently shook their shoulder to rouse them in case they had been knocked unconscious. They did not move. Fearful that they had somehow died Anna moved the bangs to one side. Past the grime she was able to see the whites of their eyes reflecting the light, open and staring out into space. They blinked slowly, as if they were drunk or drugged. The person's stench was so powerful and mixed she could not tell if it was either, but she decided to play along with that thought.

"Can't you see this person is unwell?" Anna demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Ed shouted back. "Don't try to--"

"What reason do I have to lie?" Anna cut him off. "Tell me: Have I ever lied?" The last was directed to the people that had surrounded them. At her words several made agreeing remarks, a few nodding. "Why would I start now?" she continued. "And why for such a person?"

"She's right!" someone spoke up. "Back off, Ed! You can't help it if a retard tried to take a single apple!"

Ed growled, yet stayed silent. He could see that every one in the crowd was on Anna's side. He turned, storming back to his stand. The crowd slowly began to die down, going back to what they were doing.

Anna went back to the person, wondering what she should do. She could not just leave them there, no one else seemed to care about them. And she had more than enough room...

With a sigh, Anna carefully helped the would-be-thief up, supporting their slight weight, and walked them back to her inn, hoping she would not regret her decision.

Unseen, a pair of cold, red eyes watched them. A grin split beneath the orbs, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

---

Anna quickly got the person to the inn, thankful that for once there were no renters. She thought briefly about what to do first when the stench finally got to her. "You need a bath," she said, half-hoping the person would respond.

They did not.

Anna frowned, but put that aside as she lead them to the large, private bathroom she used. There was a smaller yet still pleasant one she allowed the people staying at the inn to use, but this was the one that she kept secret about. She frowned in thought, closing the door and locking it in case anyone tried to get in--a habit of hers. The tub was full, and soap was nearby so she decided the person should go ahead and bathe. Plus, the hair would be easier to deal with once it was cleaner.

"Now to get you undressed," Anna murmured to herself. As her thoughts started to turn, she absently tugged off the tunic with a little difficulty since the person did not move. "Lift your hands, she said automatically, raising their arms for them when they did not respond. The tunic came off. Her mind was still elsewhere, trying to figure out what was wrong with them, and why did they try to steal from Ed. Anna was so preoccupied, she did not notice it until their pants came off.

"KYAAA!"

Anna's scream was heard miles away.

Her body leapt back from both shock and embarrassment. She snapped around, furiously blushing. "I--I--I--I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she stammered. All the while, her mind was rambling thought after thought.

The thief was male.

Anna swore, embarrassed more than she ever had been in her life. "I'm sorry!" she said again. "I--I didn't realize you were a man!"

Silence.

Slowly, Anna turned around, keeping her eyes upward. She blinked, frowning. He was standing just as she left him, his arms still raised. "What's wrong?" she said, slowly approaching him. He did nothing in response.

_Maybe he _is_ retarded,_ Anna thought. She cleared her throat, thinking out loud, "Well, whatever you are, you're stinking up the place, so into the tub." Still no reaction. She had to lead him into the warm water.

Sighing, Anna started to clean the layers of grime and dirt off him, ignoring certain areas that made her face turn bright red. When she was done, she washed and rewashed his long hair, frustrated because it was too tangled to be cleaned completely. She gave up and stood, saying, "I'll be right back. I'm going to get some scissors so I can trim your hair."

When she got back, Anna was startled to find him sitting on the floor, his pants back on. He had his back to her, hair thrown back over his shoulders as if waiting for her. She shook off her surprise, kneeling behind him. She gently gathered his hair and proceeded to cut off sections of it at a time. She was not an excellent barber, so she settled for leaving it chin length. Anna moved to his side, beginning to trim his bangs so she could see his face. She stopped, something catching her eye. She brushed his hair aside, gasping softly.

He was an elf.

"Valor's name..." Anna whispered, staring at him. "What's an elf doing here?" Of course, she received no answer. Regaining her wits, she started to cut away the bangs, curious about what his eyes looked like. She kept herself from looking until the last was cut away. She set the scissors aside, and looked at him.

His eyes were a dark, dark brown, flecks of blue and green in them. They were probably hazel, but a shadow covered them, dulling the true color. He stared out in space, not focusing on anything.

Dull. Void of life. Dead within his body.

A pang of grief struck Anna upon seeing his eyes. They spoke so much that she decided she would not ask any of the questions plaguing her. Softly, she laid a hand on his cheek and stroked it lightly. "I'm sorry," she said. Yet for what she did not know.

---

Days, weeks, months, then a year finally passed. The elf had not gotten better; always sitting or standing as he stared into space. Never had Anna heard him utter one noise. It seemed that he was able to take care of himself when it came to the essentials--going to the toilet, eating, etc.--but things like grooming he never did. And whenever he did move, it was in short jerky movements like a puppet on strings. In the entire year he had been under her care, Anna had never seen him without his head titled upwards and his eyes listless, unseeing.

Whenever Anna brought him food, she would sit the tray in front of him, stand back, and as he ate--ignoring the utensils and using his hands instead--say quietly, "What's your name?" She never got a reply, no matter how many times or how forceful she was.

Anna was getting to her wits end, one day, just after the noon meal. She sighed, wishing she knew how to help him, as she cleaned the dishes. She place them in the cupboards when they had dried and started to go when something in her mind clicked. She went back, counting the forks. None were missing. She counted the spoons. They were all there. She counted the knives.

One was gone.

Anna swore, running up the stairs to the room the elf was in. She had never left any sharp thing within his reach, afraid of what he might do with it. She threw open the door, preparing for the worst.

Nothing was out of the ordinary; he was sitting placidly at the table as she had left him, staring into empty space. Anna blinked, seeing the knife on the table. Cautiously, she walked over, keeping her eyes on him in case he went to grab for it. Once her hand closed around the handle, she slowly began to back up.

His hand shot out, grabbing her other wrist in a vice like grip. Anna gasped, shouting, "Let me go! Let me go or I'll...I'll...I..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes grew huge like saucers at what was on the table.

_MY NAME TAN._

They were simple, crude letters, carved into the wood. Anna stared at them, not believing her eyes for a second. "My...name...Tan?" she said slowly.

When she spoke the name, his head jerked in response, facing her though his eyes did not focus.

Anna blinked, momentarily surprised, then said, "Tan?"

He jerked again, as if looking for her. His grip loosened enough for her to step back, pulling her arm with her. An idea came to Anna. She laid the knife on the table, then gently took his hand and laid it on top of the knife. "What's your name?" she said slowly.

At first nothing happened. Then, his hand closed around the handle of the knife. His other hand swept across the table. Upon feeling the damaged wood, he stood abruptly. With short, jerky steps he moved over to the wall. He ran his hand over that, too. Then, he stabbed it, bits of plaster flying off, and proceeded to carve the same message: _MY NAME TAN._

Anna stared in amazement. "I guess you're not dumb after all," she said to herself. "But I wonder why you're like this," she mused. "What could have happened?"

Tan raised his head slightly towards her, and she thought she could see his eyes clear for a second. His mouth moved, as if to form a word, but no sound came from him. As this happened, his hand carved another message on the wall:

_NO DUMB. LOST._

---

Anna found that not only was Tan not retarded, he was able to converse with her through writing. She found that while outwardly he expressed no emotion or even thought, Tan could tell and answer things as long as he had a means to write it down. His words were always in short, direct answers, using improper grammar. Yet whenever Anna tried to ask about the cause of his state, or even more personal information like where he was from and if he had any family, Tan's eyes would darken and he would not respond to anything for days.

It got to where sometimes Tan would follow Anna. She would never notice it but he would suddenly be there, behind her or somewhere out of the way yet still close. After a while, she grew used to it.

Anna was wiping down a table when a large group of people came in. She counted eight in all. One of them, a young woman with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, came up to the bar, sitting down and looking around expectantly. Anna adjusted the kerchief around her head and went around to the other side of the bar.

"Can I help you?" Anna asked, wiping her hands on a cloth. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tan sitting at the other end of the bar, staring at space.

"Yes," the girl said, "my friends and I need a room for the next week or so. But we have a small problem."

Anna nodded, motioning for her to continue.

"We have no money. We do, however," the girl continued, "have a few items we think you might deem worthy enough instead of currency."

Anna sighed, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. "Alright, let's see them."

They brought forth a plethora of items, some Anna had no idea what they were for and some she did not want to know for one reason or another. She turned them all down one by one until she got to a strange rectangular box sitting on its end. "What's this?" Anna asked, curious by nature.

The blonde smiled as if in victory. "That is something I think you will like very much. One of a kind, unlike anything you've ever seen. I can guarantee that."

"How so?" Anna challenged.

"Because I made it." With that, the girl pressed a corner of the box and sat back, smirking.

The sides of the box slowly fell away, revealing an amazingly crafted figure. It was shaped in the form of a young maiden in a flowing dress with intricate patterns. Her hands were clasped on front of her and her head was bowed to her chest.

Anna examined it from top to bottom. It was beautiful--which was quite obvious--and seemed to be made out of metal. Though how the girl had colored the hair a rich brown color in such life-likeness Anna could not guess; the same could be said for the flawless, creamy complexion and the eye catching metallic blue shimmer to the dress and the silver accents on it. But other than that, Anna could find nothing else extraordinary about it. She cocked an eyebrow at the girl in question.

The girl raised a hand and touched the figure's head, saying, "Sing."

As soon as the girl withdrew her hand, the figure moved. It's head raised, revealing brilliant blue eyes that opened. Its hands unclasped spreading out to the sides with the palms up. Then, to Anna amazement, the tiny statue started to sing.

"_When darkness falls upon your heart and soul,  
I'll be the light that shines for you.  
When you forget how beautiful you are,  
I'll be there to remind you.  
When you can't find your way,  
I'll find my way to you.  
When troubles come around,  
I will come to you. _

I'll be your shoulder  
When you need someone to lean on.  
Be your shelter  
When you need someone to see you through.  
I'll be there to carry you.  
I'll be there.  
I'll be the rock that will be strong for you.  
The one that will hold on to you.  
When you feel that rain falling down,  
When there's nobody else around,  
I'll be..."

Anna stared at it in disbelief. The voice seemed real and its body moved as if it were an actual singer. She opened her mouth to accept it as payment, when something caught her attention. Anna turned her gaze to it and froze in shock.

Tan was standing by the stool he had been sitting on. At first she thought he had just been drawn to the noise, but as she looked she saw that he was actually staring at the figure. His eyes were fixed on it, never straying.

"Tan," Anna managed to say, ignoring the confused looks the girl and her group gave her. "Tan? What's wrong?"

Tan made no sign that he heard her. His mouth began to move, matching the words the figure was singing still. His hands started to tremble, and clenched.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he suddenly screamed. Those occupying the room jerked in surprise, many quickly leaving. "WHERE DID SHE GO?" he shouted again.

Without warning, Tan tore through a nearby table, slamming several chairs against the walls and shattering them. A savage growl ripped from his vocal chord as he continue to wreak havoc.

"Tan!" Anna yelled, jumping over the bar to run to him. Someone grabbed her by the waist and restrained her. She looked back to see one from the blonde's group.

"Aurora!" the blonde shouted. "Sedate him! Clad! Distract him!"

Two gave an affirmative sound. They all separated--minus the one still holding onto Anna--various weapons appearing from no where in their hands. Fear for Tan's safety flooded Anna's mind and she struggled vainly in the man's grip. "No! Tan!" she shouted. "Don't hurt him!"

"We won't," her captor said, his deep voice somehow calming her panic.

Tan continued to tear through whatever he came in contact with, people included. The group trying to contain him were having a tough time even getting close. The blonde leaped over a table he threw at her and flipped, her legs snapping around his torso. She caught his flailing arms, straining to keep him stationary. He reared back and head-butted her with enough force to send her flying backward into the wall.

The other girl suddenly made a noise of frustration and shouted to the others, "Scatter plan!" In response, everyone backed off yet stayed within five feet of the crazed Elf. The girl closed in then hurled something at him, rolling out of the way and bringing her collar over her mouth and nose.

The small brown bag hit him on the head, ripping open to spill a dusty yellow powder all over him. His step faulted and he went tumbling to the ground. Sluggishly, his arms tried to push his body up but it seemed that the energy had been sucked out of him.

The group breathed a sigh of relief at once. Anna, now released, ran to Tan's side. "Oh, Tan," she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes as she knelt down, cradling his head gently.

Even though the effects of the powder lingered, he continued to whisper hoarsely with tears streaming down his face, "Where is she? Where did she go?"

---

Denya nodded at Clad and Anex, silently telling them not to let anyone in. She shut and locked the door behind her. She sighed, looking over at Tan. He was as placid as ever, staring into space as if he was dead.

Maybe he was.

Denya shook her head, telling herself she could not let her mind wander. She took a chair and drug it over, straddling the back of it as she studied him. "What's your name?" she said slowly.

No answer.

"Where are you?"

Silence.

"Where are you from?"

A breeze ruffled the curtains.

"Can you hear me?"

He blinked after a while.

Denya sighed, pulling out the singing figure she had made. Sitting it on the table between them, she activated it and watched for his reaction. When the song began, his head moved up, gaze fixed on the moving statuette of metal. His mouth formed the words as the statue sang and soon Denya could hear him singing it as well in the quietest of voices. His voice cracked as he began to cry, sobbing, "Where is she? Where'd did she go?"

The Half-Avari did not have to fear about him going on the rampage again since Aurora had formulated a medicine that hindered him from doing so but did not effect anything else. This way it would be easier for them to determine what was wrong; they owed Anna that much.

"Where did who go?" Denya said gently. "Who are you looking for?" She did not expect an answer, but she got one. One she will not forget.

Tan's empty eyes moved to focus on her, fixing her with their intensity. She could not remember how long it was before it happened, but some time later she heard a voice--she guessed it was his but his mouth did not move--say in a pained tone, "I'm looking for the same one you are." His mouth quirked, almost forming a smile.

For some reason, Denya understood what he meant. She felt her heart clench in her chest as tears of her own fell down her face.

---

After returning from the forest of Fangorn with the Entwater, Denya and Aurora spent days in a room, concocting what they hoped would be a cure for Tan's condition that would not let him die. When they came out, Aurora went into Tan's room to prepare. Denya went to find Auron.

"You've found a way?" was the first thing Auron said when he saw her.

"We hope so," Denya said, sitting down at the table in the bar with him. "But there's a catch."

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" Auron said with a sigh.

"Because it might be the only way to keep him from killing himself."

"All right. What is it?"

Glancing around, Denya leaned closer and whispered it to him. Half-way through, Auron's eyes widened. "How did you find out?" he demanded when she was done.

"Shh!" Denya hissed, noticing a few people looking at them. "Aurora told me. I didn't force her," she added quickly. "She's the one that came up with it."

Auron sat back, covering his face with his hand as he took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten. He let it out, grumbling, "You know I don't enjoy being without any energy for a week."

Denya flashed him a smile as she hurried to the stairs. "Thanks! Be there in five minutes!"

Neither Anna nor the rest of the Guild knew what they were doing, but Aurora, Denya, and Aurora seemed to know. They locked themselves in and no one heard anything for four days. Then, on more than one occasion, Anex and Clad--who were guarding the door--thought they heard a shout but it was gone before they could verify it. After another week and a half the three emerged, tired and bedraggled but triumphant.

Tan was going to be fine.

"When he wakes up," Aurora slurred to Anna, "give 'em this. I'm going to bed." With that, she stumbled into a spare bedroom and was asleep long before she reached the bed. Auron did something similar.

---

It was not long before Tan awoke. Anna, who was there when he woke up, was shocked to see him look straight at her, smile and say, "Thank you for all you did for me."

Tan thanked the entire Guild and answered only a few of their questions. They did not ask what had caused his state or where he had been at the insisting of Anna. Aurora checked him over at least once a day, just to be safe.

A few days after he had regained sanity, Denya entered his room. "How're you doing?" she asked casually.

Tan gave a half-shrug. "Could be better, could be worse," he said.

"Tan? I... got a question for you," Denya said slowly.

Tan frowned, knowing her well enough to know it was not like her to beat around the bush. "Go ahead."

Denya took a breath to steel herself. _Come on,_ she thought. _Just ask him. What's the matter with you? You've done this before. Anex backed up the decision, for crying out loud. Do it!_ "We want you to accompany us when we leave here," she blurted.

Tan blinked, then said, "I decline."

It was Denya's turn to blink, surprised at how quickly he had answered. Before she could reply, Tan went on by saying, "It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture. Believe me, I consider it an honor even to be asked this. I remember everything I saw when I was Lost," he said, tapping his head to mean his previous condition. (They were saying he had lost his sanity, but he simply said that he was Lost.) "And I wish to repay you all. But I cannot join you. I want to, I really do."

"Then why--"

"I'm looking for someone," Tan said softly, stunning her into silence. "I would be slowing you down. After traveling with an inexperienced, half-trained, stupid, blind Elf that was mentally dead for centuries--" he paused to breath in his ramblings, "--that really has nothing in common with you, I'd think you would want to get rid of me within two days. Understand, I have a great amount of respect for you and the others, but I really think it would be best for you if you didn't have me. Sorry."

There was nothing Denya could say in response. She just gave him a half-smile and said, "All right. Thanks for your time." She left and went to her room as Tan's words from before echoed in her mind:

_I'm looking for the same one you are._

It was only hours later that she stopped crying.

---

A loud knock came at his door. Tan frowned, turning from the window that opened into the courtyard of Anna's inn. He had been watching the Guild since they gathered there before sunset several hours ago. They had started what they called a 'training session' that ended with Aurora chasing Dias around the perimeter, rambling something about wanting children, which was the result of Denya making a snide remark about Aurora getting a little 'pudgy around the middle' and it being Dias' fault. Auron could be seen gripping the handle of his sword, obviously wondering if he should test out a new sword technique he had discovered on the white-haired Elf. Darin was taking a nap in one of the trees, his arm hooked around his Bo. Rali and Denya were laughing together and cheering Dias on. Anex was chuckling silently to himself, a nostalgic look on his face. Since he could not see him, Tan guess it was Clad at his door. Either him or Anna.

He would prefer the latter.

Tan had nothing against the Half-Elf, but the other half of his blood made him uneasy. He had had a few encounters with Berserkers in the past centuries and none of them had been pleasant, even when they had not--as he called it--'snapped.'

Even so, Tan opened the door and motioned politely for the silent figure to enter. Clad's hooded head moved down then up, nodding in greeting. "What can I do for you?" Tan said.

"Denya and Clad talk," the hulking figure said in his broken speech.

Tan felt a muscle in his cheek jerk. He controlled himself and said levelly as he made his way back to the window, "About joining you in your travels?"

"Yes. Denya...upset...Tan say."

"I just don't think I could benefit you and your friends," Tan said, mentally strangling the larger being. He was speaking the truth. He really did not think he could give them anything in this 'hunt.' They had never spoken right out about their cause around him, even before Tan was sane, but he had heard enough to know they had taken on a quest that was far more than stealing things. Why would they not leave him alone about it?

"No say friends."

Tan frowned, not understanding. Then he got it: Not what he had said about traveling with them. "Then what?"

Clad was silent. Then, "Looking."

Tan averted his eyes, looking down at the Elf in discussion.

"Tan say Denya looking, _le_?"

"I can tell when someone is searching for the same thing I am," Tan said slowly, his gaze becoming unfocused as they misted. "We have that look. That ability to be in someone else's gaze and be able to tell them without saying anything that they're looking for the one thing that can complete their life, their very existence. I found it once...now I'm searching for it again yet this time I will never find it." He shook his head, clearing his eyes and looked back at Clad. "I did not mean to upset her."

Clad nodded.

"And I will say it again: I cannot join you. There is simply no common ground for us."

Tan was soon regretting those words.

---

Denya leaned back against the wall, amused. She had not meant her rude comment to make Dias run four miles, but it was certainly helping her keep her mind off her talk with Tan.

Denya strayed a glance up to his window, then frowned, seeing the shutters closed. But wasn't Tan just looking out them a second ago? She shrugged it off, laughing along with Rali and Annex as Aurora finally caught Dias, both of them tumbling to the ground.

---

Tan barely breathed, not wanting to make one false move. His back was pressed against the wall with almost bruising pressure by the large hand splayed out on his chest, his feet hanging in the air.

Clad, his hood having been pulled back by his sudden movements, had a snarl on his face that would have made an Orc cringe. His other hand was clenched into a fist, shaking as if it wanted to punch Tan.

The smaller Elf searched the area of his captor's face that was hidden by thick red hair at a frantic pace, matching his pulse. What he feared he saw: a dull glow coming from behind the hair around Clad's eyes. Yet since it was not very bright and kept flickering, he knew Clad had not 'snapped' completely; he had cracked a little though.

"**_I will not tolerate such lies, especially from you._**"

Tan's gaze searched for the voice in the room but found they were the only two there. He stared at Clad, eyes wide. "**_H-How can--_**" he started but was forced to stop when Clad increased his grip, pushing the air out of his lungs.

"**_Just because I choose to speak as if I'm uneducated doesn't mean I am,_**" Clad said in perfect Sindarin. "**_I've been alive for a couple of centuries, so I think I would pick up on a language or two, _**le**_? And excuse the dialect,_**" his mouth tip in a sneering smile, "**_but I'm in a foul mood._**"

Clad eased his hand back a bit, allowing Tan to slide down the wall until they were level. "**_What was this about we not having any 'common ground' with you, _**le?" he asked in an icy tone.

Tan looked away, not wanting him to see the alarmed look on his face. He expected Clad to just give up and hit him. Instead, Clad let him go, falling to the ground in a heap. The surprised Elf sucked air back into his lungs, looking up at him with a fearful gaze.

"**_I kill Orcs and the like, so don't worry,_**" Clad said though not in the most reassuring tone. "**_Now, why won't you join us,_** le?"

Tan suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor to stare at.

"**_If you're going to come up with an excuse, then use a better one than there's nothing in common._**"

"**_How can any of you have anything in common with each other let alone me?_**" Tan exploded. "**_For crying out loud, when you walked into the bar I thought you were a bunch of circus people! How can people as different from each other as a Dwarf and a Halfing are proclaim that they are of one mind? They'd fall apart!_**" Now out of steam, Tan sat there, catching his breath and looking up at Clad.

For a while Clad stood there, staring at Tan from behind his curtain of hair. Then he backed away to the shut window. He flicked open the shutters, peering down through the slits at the others. "**_We do have something in common,_**" Clad said at last. "**_A connection that runs deeper than blood and stronger than love._**"

"**_What is it?_**" Tan asked, not daring to speak loudly.

"**_A common pain and a common enemy,_**" he said. "**_Everyone of us had something taken away, something that can never be replaced. Our enemy is also the one thing that lead us to each other. And that is the world._**"

Tan frowned, confused, as he stood up. "**_How can the world be an enemy of so many people?_**" he asked. "**_How could it have taken from you?_**"

"**_As easy as I had you pinned against the wall without you realizing it,_**" Clad replied coolly.

Tan stepped back, hand reflexively going to his chest. "**_Then...what did it take?_**"

"**_It took away different things from each, but in all the results were the same. After all, look where it got us._**" Clad leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and jerking his head down to the courtyards. "**_With Denya, it took the life of her best friend since infancy and in doing so she destroyed her own life, becoming her friend instead. She became a hunter at a young age, cutting herself from her family and giving up the only thing she always looked forward to: finding the love of another._**

"**_Aurora lost the remainder of her innocence. She would have never spoken the words 'kill them' ten centuries ago without first knowing what it was she was going to kill. Now, she was ruthless as they come, slaying without thought. Man's prejudice crushed her naive dreams of every creature deserving a chance._**

"**_For Auron, it was his trust. By living in a human environment for decades, he trusted them to allow him and his sister to live in peace. That trust was taken when they tried to chop his head off._**

"**_Darin no longer has any faith in authority. The very King his parents had worked for accused him of murdering them. Now he treats anyone of high status with contempt unless he knows them well. He can no longer be a part of any other community, for he will rebel._**

"**_Dias suddenly had a life altering choice thrust upon him that demanded he decide instantaneously. Now he wonders if he chose the right path. He doubts himself and his ability to make decisions. Every day it grows though he hides it well._**

"**_Rali's way of life was shattered. His parents were from differing races, so the only life he knew was the one he had. He was content serving as a village protector though they openly hated him. Only one thing did he care about in that village, but that too was taken away in an instant. They shunned him because of his existence, ruining the image he saw of himself._**

"**_Annex was separated from his family. His wife and children were taken from him for the simple fact that he was born without two eyes. He had to leave them and will forever wonder about them, if they're still alive and if so how they're doing without him._**"

"**_What about you?_**" Tan said after a moment of silence. "**_What is it the world took from you?_**"

Clad turned his head away from the Elf, who thought he had over stepped his boundaries. Then, to his surprise, Clad said, "**_It took the last thing I had the day I was accused of a crime I did not do: my identity. For years I lived in the shadows of my parents' affair, constantly abused in various ways from both Elves and Berserkers. I held out because I knew that no matter what, if I stood long enough, they would accept me for what I was. Yet that day only proved the opposite when I was accused of attacking my best friends and killing one of them._**"

Silence once more blanketed the room. Tan busied himself by looking out the shutters at the courtyard, the others having resumed their training session--Dias with a few bumps of his head. It was several minutes before either spoke when Tan said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "**_If you believe I share that in common, then what did the world take from me?_**"

To his shock, Clad replied, "**_I do not know the circumstances surrounding it, so I cannot be sure. However, from our little talk as well as your earlier one with Denya, I can say this: you want us to believe you will give us nothing if you join. That is a lie. Anex saw you some time ago, raiding the caravan he was traveling in. He knows of your abilities and is aware that you have a greater amount than we can guess at. You would be very valuable to us. Yet you try to make us think you're useless. That alone tells me what was taken from you._**"

Clad pulled his hood on as he declared, "**_You no longer trust yourself. Something happened, something you had control over, and it went astray. The result scarred you deep enough to make you insane, running around Middle-Earth locked within your own mind, acting only on instinct for centuries. You don't want history to repeat itself so you don't want to come with us. That tells me you don't want to make friends, which means someone close to you was also hurt._**"

Tan stared at Clad with wide eyes in a pale face. He did not breathe and sweat broke out on his forehead. He was in mild shock.

Clad had spoken true.

The Half-Elf turned and headed out the door, stopping on the threshold and saying over his shoulder, "**_You say you were Lost, instead of insane, _**le**_? If that is the case, then I and the rest of the Guild are Lost as well. That is another thing we share. Good night._**"

The next morning, the Thieves Guild had a new member...

----------

A. N. -- 'I'll Be' belongs to Reba MacEntire.


	22. Chapter XVI: Look Before You Leap!

Chapter Sixteen - Look Before You Leap!

"...and that's that," Denya concluded, leaning back against the rock.

"Whoa," was all Caled could say in reply. "That took a long time."

Denya shrugged, then grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, didn't mean to talk your ear off for so long."

Caled shook her head, dismissing it. "Did you ever find out what happened to Tan?" she asked after a moment of thought. "Why you found him in that state?"

The Elf shook her head, a sad expression on her face. "No, we never could get it out of him. Neither could we find out why that song effected him like that. He never brings it up, so we don't either."

"I wonder what happened." Caled sighed. "Just be sure to keep that promise of yours and don't tell a word of what I told you to anyone."

"I won't. I won't," Denya said, trying not to roll her eyes.

"Did you really get that drunk?" Caled asked, referring to Denya's meeting with Aurora and Auron.

"Did I ever!" Denya exclaimed, laughing. "I was so drunk I was wondering when she'd split into three!"

Their laughter was interrupted by the bushes to their side rustling. Their eyes snapped around, a fireball glowing in Caled's hand. "Get down," Denya hissed, slowly wading through the water. Caled did so, her nose barely above the water. Denya reached for her right arm, pulling off an unmarked bracelet underwater. It formed into a dagger.

_So that's how she does it,_ Caled thought.

Denya suddenly jumped, throwing the dagger into the bushes.

---

"...The end!" Aurora said, grinning.

Legolas only had time to blink in surprise at the length of that story and say, "That was a long tale," when an ear-piercing shriek split the air.

"Denya!" a few of them gasped.

"Caled!" Legolas said at the same time. He jumped up, along with Darin and Tan, and ran in the direction the two had gone.

They failed to hear Aurora snort, saying in a singsong voice, "You're gonna get in trouble!" as she dug through her bag for bandages she would more than likely need.

---

Legolas raced ahead, fear clenching his heart. They parted the underbrush that surrounded the place the scream had come from and all three Elves stopped dead in their steps at what they saw.

Denya was cursing herself for letting something get away. She was standing by a hot spring.

And she didn't have a stitch of clothing on her.

Of course, being the males they were, they were frozen in place in shock.

A startled squeak caught her attention, which was probably from Caled at seeing the three intruders before she dived further under the water. Denya had started to ask her what was wrong when she saw the three gawking Elves standing not three yards away. Her eyes went wide, then suddenly narrowed dangerously as they glowed. She cracked her knuckles, hissing, "That's it! You're gonna die!"

All Caled could heard was sounds of a brutal beating.

---

Aurora, Anex, Rali, Dias, and Auron were cackling the next morning, finding the incident too amusing. Denya muttered curses under her breath for three straight days afterwards, never looking at any of them. Though she had beaten the crap out of them they had healed quickly thanks to Aurora. Caled seemed to have a permanent blush on her face even though they had not seen her.

All in all, things got back to normal soon afterwards. Except for one thing:

Denya never found what had been in the bushes.

----------


	23. Chapter XVII: Recalling

Chapter Seventeen - Recalling

"In the name of Venya, settle down!" Aurora huffed.

"Mind your own business!" Denya shot back, glaring down at Aurora from her spot in a tree. She turned her eyes back to the area before them.

"Tan already said that there's nothing ahead," Aurora called up. "So get down here and eat! Your food will get cold!"

Legolas smiled as Denya told Aurora exactly what she could do with the food. Though Denya's nervousness was a bit much, it was understandable.

They were almost to Mount Gundabad and the terrain was becoming more and more strange. They were well about the normal altitude for trees to grow yet that seemed to all they could find. Trees were _everywhere_. And it did not help that Denya said she could heard odd noises in the night and sometimes in the day as well.

Grumbling, Denya was persuaded to come down and eat by Aurora threatening to put a rash powder in her meal next time. About halfway through, Denya looked up at Caled. "Aren't you going to eat, Caled?"

Caled, jerked out of her thoughts, looked at her plate which was untouched. "Oh, I'm not that hungry." She glanced around, seeing everyone looking at her, then said, "I'm gonna walk around for a bit." She hurriedly stood and walked off.

"More for me!" Denya cheered as she snatched the plate and began to eat it.

After a few minutes, Legolas also excused himself. Ignoring Denya's scowl, he followed the direction Caled had gone. It was only a while before he found her. He started to approach her, but froze when he saw what she was doing.

She had her dagger in her hand. Literally, _in_ her hand. The Wood-Elf was shocked to see that Caled had driven it in her palm all the way through the back side of her hand. Her blood flowed around the wound to a small puddle of it on the ground. Caled ripped the dagger out, examining the wound. Before Legolas' eyes, the wound began to close.

"I thought so," he heard Caled mutter. A shuddering breath escaped her as she raised her head. A pained expression was on her face as she gazed at the sun beaming down on her. "After all these years," she whispered. "Little has changed..."

"Caled?" Legolas called, stepping closer.

Startled, she jumped a step back, eyes wide. "How long have you been there?" Caled said, face paling.

"Just now," Legolas said, not able to keep his eyes from her hand. There was nothing to tell of what she had just done. "I was worried about you," he quickly added.

Something flickered across Caled's face. "Why should you care so much about me?" she said coldly, turning and walking further away.

Her words cause his anger to rise. "And why should you seek to push me away, Caled?" Legolas said, following her.

"Is your mind really so dull?" Caled called back, looking down at him from her spot on a boulder. "Or have you forgotten that little wound on your shoulder, Elf?"

At her words, his shoulder twitched. Legolas frowned, choosing to ignore that as he climbed the rock after her.

"I see you haven't," Caled sneered, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Why did you stab my shoulder back then?" Legolas asked.

Caled shrugged. "I missed your neck." She tried not to put any emotion behind the words, but failed. The Wood-Elf could hear the touch of regret behind her voice. Caled cursed, suddenly jumping into a nearby tree.

Legolas attempted to follow her, but the tree's branches shifted whenever he tried to scale them. He sighed, sitting down at its base until she cooled off.

Now that Legolas thought about it, he had never forgotten the wound on his shoulder. At night, it twitched and sometimes he could feel the fiery touch of the dagger that had cut it. Absently, he rubbed it as his mind wandered.

"Where is she?" he thought out loud after thirty minutes had come and gone.

**_/...kill..._**

The Elf jerked into a standing position, daggers in hand. He strained his eyes and ears yet could not sense anyone near him.

**_/...kill..._**

Legolas spun around.

Caled jumped back, hands clutching her throat where he had nearly cut her.

Legolas stared, not believing what he had almost done. "Caled? Are you all--"

**_/...KILL HER..._**

Again, Legolas could sense no one other than himself and Caled. "Do you hear that?" he whispered to her.

"Hear what?" Caled exclaimed. "You nearly slicing my head off!"

"I'm serious, Caled!" he shot back.

Caled growled, uttering something in Morgul. Seeing him flinch, she smirked. "Now maybe you'll think twice before--"

**_/...KILL THE GIRL..._**

"---trying to kill me off--"

Before she could continue, something came bursting out of the bushes and skidded to a stop beside them. It was Darin. He was clutching his Bo in a death grip as he struggled to get up. Blood leaked out of a cut in his side and a nasty burn crossed his chest up his neck. "The camp!" he gasped. "Something...don't know what it is..."

Not giving him a chance to finish, Legolas shot off the way they had come. When he got to the camp, he was stunned at what he saw.

The majority of his companions had already been rendered unconscious one way or another, most bleeding. Mornie was laying limply on the ground. Clad and Anex were the only ones that were still moving.

The culprits were shrouded in dark cloaks of either green or red. Legolas counted ten of each. The one closest to him turned in his direction, hood lowering as they studied him. Then they were upon him before he knew it.

They drew strange looking swords but Legolas had no time to examine them as he blocked a blow to his abdomen. He parried and threw them back. He did little more than block as he made his way to the others. Soon, Clad came to his side and defended him while Legolas checked on their fallen friends. The one closest to him was Denya. There was a gash on the side of her neck, narrowing missing her jugular. Her right side and stomach were burned, though mainly superficial.

"How are they?"

Legolas jerked his eyes up in surprise, seeing Caled kneeling next to Denya on her other side. "They'll live if we can mend their wounds," Legolas managed to say. "But we need to ward off these intruders first."

Caled nodded, looking at said intruders. She froze, her eyes widening as her face paled. Legolas followed her gaze.

They had stopped fighting. All twenty of them were standing still, their weapons lowered.

They were staring at Caled.

A ripple rushed through them as they turned to whisper to one another. Some motioned to her, others were either vigorously shaking or nodding their heads. One word stood out in their rambled speech that Legolas could hear: _Caled-Veleg_.

"How do they know you?" Legolas whispered.

Caled did not have a chance to respond. They had broken up and were rushing to them. Several attacked Legolas, Clad, and Anex, driving them away. The rest circled around Caled who was too shocked to move.

"Caled!" Legolas yelled, slicing his dagger at the side of one who wore a green cloak. He hit nothing. Whoever they were, they were extremely quick and evaded his weapons with ease.

A shrill scream pierced the air. All of the cloaked figures stopped, those around Caled shrank away. She was on the ground, grasping her head and screaming as if in pain. She trashed around, her hands finding her dagger.

"Caled!" Legolas tried to run to her but two red cloaks caught him, Clad and Anex were restrained as well. They were surprisingly strong and held him fast. He struggled vainly, trying to get to her. Her screams cut through him, right to his soul. "Caled!"

"Get away!" Caled suddenly yelled. "Get away!" She slashed through the air with her dagger, almost hitting a green cloaked one. "Get away from me! Leave me alone!"

The one she almost had hit uttered something, raising a hand gloved in matching green leather---from his place Legolas saw a wide gash in the leather, leaving the palm of his hand bare. The trees beside them suddenly lurched, its branches extending down towards the writhing Caled.

"No! Leave her alone!" Legolas shouted.

The branches stretched further.

"CALED!"

"Stop it!" A blue burst of fire ignited as something silver hit the branches as the tree. The branches shriveled and withered away. A surprised whisper ran through those in green cloaks as they stared.

"Leave her alone!" Denya shouted fiercely, throwing another silver dart at the tree as it tried to stretch its branches again. It erupted into flames. She turned to the cloaked figures, ignoring the blood from her wound and shouting, "Can't you see she is unwell! Leave her be!" She turned to those holding Legolas, Anex, and Clad back. "And let them go! Or I'll do more than burn a tree!"

More from shock than fear, they did so. Legolas rushed to Caled just as Denya got to her. "**_Careful,_**" Denya whispered to the Wood-Elf when he reached out for her. "**_She'll only get worse if you touch her skin._**"

"**_Why is that?_**" Legolas asked, gathering her into his arms while avoiding her bear skin as Denya said. He was thankful she was wearing long sleeves for the cold weather. Caled's trashing had subsided and she was reduced to sobbing.

"**_I can't tell you,_**" Denya said, reaching into a bag at her waist. She pulled out a vial filed with a murky, brownish liquid. She bit the cork and pulled it out since she could only use one hand. She held the vial under Caled's nose and waited until her red eyes clouded before closing. "**_That should do it,_**" Denya said, putting the cork back in. "**_Aurora made this, just in case,_**" she explained to Legolas' questioning gaze.

"**_Will she be alright?_**" Legolas asked, looking down at her.

"**_As long as you don't directly touch her,_**" Denya stressed. She pulled out a small wafer like cake from her bag and bit it. She took a breath and closed her eyes. The gash on her neck instantly began to mend. When it was done, she stood and addressed the cloaked figures.

"Why did you attack us?" Denya said.

They did not reply.

"If you do not answer," Denya continued, motioning with her good arm to Clad and Anex who got in aggressive stances, "then you will die."

They looked at each other, then one stepped forward of each color. They slowly approached and stopped just in front of them. They knelt down on one knee and bowed low.

"We are following orders, Avari Lady," the red one spoke, male.

"Whose orders?" Denya said, her eyes briefly glowing at how they had addressed her.

"Our leader's orders," the green one answered, also male. "Outsiders are not allowed so close in this country."

"You didn't attack Aurora, or Auron for that matter," Anex said. "You just knocked them out, then tried to kill the rest of us. What made them different?"

Legolas glanced over at the two. From what he could see, they did not have any obvious injuries.

The two hesitated.

"Let me guess," Denya said. "Orders, right?"

They nodded.

"Why did you try to take Caled?" Legolas spoke up, his pale blue eyes glaring at them and the rest of their company. "And how do you know her?"

A red cloak suddenly came forward, throwing the hood back. It was a young woman with red-orange hair and glowing red eyes. She threw her cloak back as well and revealed her red leather armor strapped over robes of differing hues of red and gold. The symbol on her chest plate was of a golden fire-bird rising within a circling of intricately woven vines. "I am Kurra, captain of the Fire-Guard," she declared, meeting Legolas' gaze straight on. "We do not answer to you, Elf."

A green cloak appeared at her side, catching her by the shoulder and turning her around look them in the face. "Calm yourself, Kurra." Removing the hood as well, they saw this was a young man. His hair was short and colored a shocking bright green. His eyes were deep like an endless pool and gleamed brown in the sunlight. "I am Rynno, captain of the Tree-Guard," he said, inclining his head. His armor was the mirror of Kurra's with the exception that they were green and silver. His symbol was the same, just silver instead of gold.

"Will you explain?" Denya said.

"It is not our place," Rynno said. "If you will allow us, we will take you to our home and--"

Kurra did not seem to like that idea. she grabbed him by the arm and began to hiss something under her breath. At first, Legolas did not understand the words. Then he realized it was similar to his own tongue. He was able to slowly understand what they were saying.

"_We cannot take them any further than they are!_" Kurra was saying.

"_We attacked and wounded many of them!_" Rynno replied. "_They were in her company and are obviously her traveling companions._"

"_More like kidnappers,_" Kurra muttered, glaring at Legolas with a dark look.

"_That was before the Wood-Elf's time!_" Rynno insisted. "_The trees are saying he is young! He could have had no part in it_"

"_And what of the others!_" Kurra suddenly exploded. "_The two Half-Men I will excuse, but I will not rest until I have the guilty party's head on my spear!_"

"_I will give you that honor when we find the guilty party!_" Rynno shouted back. "_Did you not see her concern for them? She even brought back the other Wood-Elf you sent flying through the trees! How can they be the kidnappers?_"

"_And if they are?_" Kurra asked in a frightfully serious voice.

Rynno hesitated, looking down at Caled in Legolas' arms. Then, he looked at Legolas. "_I will assume responsibility_" Rynno answered.

Growling--similarly to Caled, Legolas saw with a start--Kurra turned around and yanked her hood back on, barking orders to the others. Rynno turned to Legolas and said, "You can tend to your friends, but hurry." He glanced around them as he said, "You are not alone."

---

They were able to rouse most of the others, but Darin, Dias, and Rali were still unconscious when Kurra ordered they leave. The ones in green cloaks stretched out their hands and tree's branches broke themselves off, forming makeshift stretchers to lay the unconscious on. Then, the ground rolled gently to carry them as they walked. Legolas refused to let them have Caled, saying he could carry her. Before going, Denya slipped a bracelet onto Caled's arm and uttered a chant. "So she can't be forcefully removed from you," she said, winking.

They walked, their path well hidden to Legolas' eye, for the rest of the day. It had already become night when Caled stirred.

"It's alright," Legolas whispered to her when she began to move.

"Wha...who..." she said sluggishly. She was more than half-asleep.

"It's just me, don't worry. You're okay, Caled."

"...Elf?" she said slowly.

Swallowing in preparation for her screaming protest at being so close to him, Legolas said, "Yes."

To his shock, Caled simply laid her head back down on his shoulder, mumbling, "Stupid Elf...should let me walk."

Legolas chuckled, shifting her so she would be more comfortable without the chance of accidentally touching skin to skin. "Go back to sleep, coramin," he said softly.

Despite the darkness, he saw her frown, not understanding the name. "What did you call me?" Caled said, but a soft snore closely following told the Elf she had fallen asleep.

Denya hung back a step behind the two, her face reflexively blank. Her hand reached up, massaging the area above her heart. She felt as if it were breaking.

Further ahead, Kurra turned, her eyes glaring at Legolas with open hate in their glowing depths. Rynno caught her arm and pulled her back around, shaking his head negatively at her.

The trees suddenly cleared. A thick gate and walls made of trees and their branches stood in their way. Rynno waved a hand in front of the gates and they slowly creaked open, allowing them through.

Before them was a sight Legolas had never expected: a great city, rivaling those of Rivendell and Gondor alike. The twinkling light spread out further than their eyes could see. Buildings of every variety covered the area. And the residents...

Those out in the streets had one of two sets of features: red, gold, orange hair and eyes of the same with differing hues or green, brown hair and brown eyes. There were also several ones that they wondered were even normal. Denya saw a young child whose hair looked like a small fire, the child's eyes were larger than her palm and golden. Legolas thought his eyes were playing tricks in the dark light, but he could have sworn he saw a few people with hair that looked like vines. In fact, they _were_ vines.

As they made their way through the streets, everyone was staring at them in question. Yet when Legolas passed them, the crowd gasped and looked at Caled's prone body in wonder. Three of each of the colored cloaks moved from their place and stood around him like an escort, pushing back those who had tried to get closer.

Their way was blocked by a group of six young men bowing low to the ground. Their features were green hair and brown eyes. Kurra motioned for everyone to halt and walked up to them. "What are you doing?" she said, sounding annoyed.

"We are begging forgiveness," the one at the forefront said, not raising his head.

"For what?"

"For the wrong we did to the Elf-Woman in your presence," he said. "Please, forgive us!"

Kurra spun around, eyes on Aurora. "What are they talking about?"

Aurora looked shocked. "But--But--I--I," she stuttered. "I don't know--" She stopped, eyes wide in recognition. "You?" she gasped.

"Clear the way!" Kurra suddenly barked. "Apologize later, we have business that's more important than yours with her!" As the six scattered, still not raising their heads, she turned to Rynno and said, "Since they're from your Family, you deal with them."

Rynno simply nodded and they continued. They reached what looked like a mansion. Kurra waved her hand this time. A ball of red flame shot out and covered the massive door. The door did not burn yet glowed for a second then opened. They stepped inside and found themselves in a huge entrance hall.

"Males, up the stairs for two levels and the third corridor on your left," Kurra said, motioning in the direction for them to go. "Females, follow me." She went up to Legolas. "Let me have Caled-Veleg," she ordered.

Kurra's attitude towards him had not improve since Legolas had first seen her, in fact it had gotten worst. And now she expected him to simply hand over Caled? Smirking inwardly, Legolas decided it would be a good time to test the bracelet Denya had placed on Caled.

"No."

Silence covered the hall. Those still cloaked were staring at him in disbelief. The Guild was trying not to laugh out loud.

"What?" Kurra said, her voice strained to be kept normal level.

"No, you will not have her," Legolas repeated.

The air in the room crackled, steam rising off the walls and floor. Kurra was visibly shaking in anger. "I will only say it one more time," she said through gritted teeth. "Give me Caled-Veleg, you filthy Elf!"

"I am not speaking Elvish, so you shouldn't have any trouble understanding me," Legolas said calmly. "No."

Kurra snarled, hands suddenly reaching out to snatch Caled from him. Before she got very far, a bolt of lightening shot from the bracelet around Caled's wrist and struck Kurra in her heart. For a split second, Kurra hung in mid-air, gaping in shock. The next, she was flung across the hall, connecting with the far wall, hard. She collapsed to the ground.

As those in red cloaks rushed to Kurra's side, Rynno whistled, judging the distance. He gave them a look that said _Nice once,_ before facing Legolas. "Please understand, we only want what is best for her," he said, motioning to Caled.

"I am aware of that," Legolas responded. "However, I do not trust those who openly attacked my comrades. I will accompany Denya and Aurora and they can tend to her." His eyes narrowed. "I will allow no one else to touch her."

To his surprise, Rynno nodded. He pointed to one of green cloaked figures behind him and said, "She will show you to their rooms. I'll wait here for your return and show you to yours. Agreed?"

Legolas nodded.

---

Caled groaned, rolling away from the glaring light.

"She's waking up!"

"Good, now maybe we'll get some answers."

Caled slowly blinked her eyes open. Denya and Aurora were hovering over her, anxious looks on their faces. "Where am I?" Caled mumbled, not remembering.

"Do you remember the ones who attacked us?" Aurora said.

Caled frowned, but nodded.

"Well, we're in their city. You've been asleep all night and--"

Caled suddenly shot up straight in the bed she was in, eyes wide. "We're in their city?" she repeated, her voice trembling.

"Yes, why? What's wrong?" Denya asked as Caled got up and ran to the large window on the other side of the room.

Caled did not answer. She flung aside the curtains and threw open the window. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the landscape before her. Caled was still for a few moments, then she fell to the floor, disbelief written on her face. "I can't believe it," she whispered.

A knock on the door caught their attention. It opened and in stepped the woman Rynno had sent with them the night before. Her name was Siccu and she had long, dark brown hair and bright brown eyes. She was still dressed in her armor, the phoenix symbol glittering in the sunlight. She saw Caled was awake and instantly knelt down to the floor, laying a hand over her heart. "Are you well rested, Lady Caled-Veleg?" she said, her head bent down.

"Yes," Caled replied, standing. Her face was surpassingly calm as she said, "Let your leader know that I and my companions will meet him when we are ready."

"Yes, my lady." Siccu stood and quickly walked out the door.

Denya and Aurora exchanged glances. "Caled?" Denya said. "What's going on?"

Caled did not look at them. She was staring out the window. Quietly, she said, "It will be explained in time."

---

Around midday, Kurra, Rynno and a few more guards escorted Legolas, Caled and the Guild from the mansion. Try as they might, no one could get a straight answer out of Caled, who seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on.

They were lead down the streets, crammed full of the residents that wanted to get a closer look at them. As they passed, they all gasped and cried out, "It is her! It really is!" or "Lady Caled-Veleg! She's right there!" It went on until they came to a huge building, a castle.

Two large guards stood in their way. Kurra step up and said, "We have come to see my father." The guards nodded and let them through. Kurra led them through a dizzy path in the castle, through halls, stairways and almost everything else until they finally reached their destination: the throne room.

Seated upon the throne was a man with graying golden hair and dully glowing red eyes. His robes were of rich colors of red and gold as well. He studied each of them in turn as Kurra led them up to the dais his throne sat upon. There were several others in the room, officials and those in his court.

Kurra bowed, saying, "Father, I have brought Caled-Veleg and her---companions." It was obvious that she did not believe the last part but said it anyway.

The man turned his eyes to Caled, who stood straight and met his gaze evenly. "Are you really--" he started.

"Yes," Caled interrupted. She raised a hand above her head, a green fireball forming in her palm. The others in the room gasped, some stepping back in shock. "I am Caled-Veleg."

"What happened to the others?" the man said.

Caled did not reply.

At this, Kurra turned, realization dawning on her face. "You're the only one?" she whispered. Something in her voice betrayed the blank look on her face. Kurra was scared of the answer.

Caled nodded. "I am the sole survivor. Everyone else was killed."

----------

A. N. -- 'Coramin' means 'my heart,' just so you know.


	24. Chapter XVIII: Shadow Elves

Chapter Eighteen - Shadow Elves

"I am the sole survivor. Everyone else was killed."

It was like the room had been a fireball ready to be ignited and Caled's words were the spark.

Everyone in the room exploded, all talking at once. One particular woman cried an anguished scream and crumpled to the floor, weeping. A group of men in red robes on one side were shouting at each other. Even the few children that had been there--clinging to their parents' clothes--suddenly started to either cry or yell in anger. Legolas and the Guild looked around in wonder, questions of their own running through their minds.

Without warning, Kurra crossed the distance between them and grabbed Caled by her shoulders. "You're lying, right?" she shouted, roughly shaking Caled. "You're lying! Right!"

Caled turned her eyes on Kurra. "Why would I lie about this?" she said calmly, though Legolas heard the catch in her voice.

"No!" Kurra screamed, pushing Caled away. "That's not true!"

Legolas caught Caled, who abruptly straightened away from him. "Accept it!" she said fiercely. "They're dead!"

"No!" Kurra said again, her hands clamping against her ears as if to block out Caled's word. "No! They can't be dead!" Tears leaked out of her tightly closed eyes. "They're not dead! They're not!"

"SILENCE!" the man on the throne bellowed. Instantly, everything become quiet, a few sobs still echoing. "The entire story must be told, Caled-Veleg," the man said, looking straight at her. Though his tone left no room for discussion, his eyes had sympathy shining in them.

"Yes, my Lord," Caled said, bowing at the waist. She glanced at the others behind her, hesitance in her gaze.

The Lord saw this as well. "They shall wait in another room as you relay what happened to us," he said, motioning for a group of guards to do so.

"Now what just a minute!" Denya shouted. "You expect us to just let you order us around like one of you---"

"Denya," Caled interrupted, her red eyes silently pleading with all of them, "please, just do as he says." Her gaze lingered on Legolas, something flashing in them.

Denya grumbled but followed the guards through the doors. As he reached the door, Legolas looked back. He met Caled's gaze and silently gave her encouragement. A brief, sad smile tugged at her mouth as the door slammed shut.

---

As they walked down innumerable hallways, Denya caught Dias by his arm and pulled him to the back, whispering to him, **_"I thought you had disabled that curse that had been placed on Caled._**"

"**_I did,_**" Dias said, puzzled as to why she was asking this.

"**_Obviously you didn't do a good enough job,_**" Denya said. "**_It happened again, when we were attacked. One of the bastards grabbed her and she---_**" she trailed off.

"**_Maybe if I understood the basis of the curse,_**" Dias said, "**_I could do it better this time. Or,_**" he added, looking thoughtful, "**_it might not have been the curse at all._**"

"**_What do you mean?_**"

"**_From what I understand, she had the curse for a long, long time. Since late adolescence, I believe. If that's true, and the curse had been activated several times, then her body just might be reacting upon reflex. Like a forced habit._**" Dias gave Denya a grave look. "**_The effects of that are permanent._**"

Denya's face paled.

"**_What did the curse do?_**" Dias pressed. "**_She never told me and that blasted Mornie and his riddles wouldn't let me know either._**" He blinked looking around. "**_Where is Mornie?_**"

"**_He vanished,_**" was all Denya said. She did not answer Dias' question about Caled's curse. Instead, she turned paler.

They were put in a room far away from the throne room, far enough so that they could not hear what was going on. The room they were in was very large and spacious. In the center was a long table with chairs on all sides. Hung on the walls were various pictures, like maps and things like that. In each of the four corners were large statues of warriors holding weapons.

They passed the time by discussing what on Middle-Earth could be going on and where they were, Denya ranting something about pompous, arrogant rulers, leading Legolas to think that maybe she was really talking about someone else, to just wandering about the room, examining the pictures or thinking.

At first, it was Denya that started it. She was sitting on the table, carving on her woodblock figure. It had started to take shape and Legolas saw it was an Elf-maiden. She was working on the garments, a long flowing gown with a high collar decorated in swirling patterns like the waves of a river. Then, without looking up from her work, she began to sing. One after another, the rest of the Guild joined in, their voices mingling together while they continued what they were doing.

"_You gotta walk,  
That lonesome valley.  
You gotta walk it,  
By yourself.  
Ain't nobody,  
Gonna walk it for you.  
You gotta walk,  
That lonesome trail._"

The tune was slow and smooth, almost haunting. It was just those four simple lines, yet they were enough. Just as suddenly as they had started, they ended the song and silence followed. It was some time before someone spoke and it was Darin who did.

"Strange," Darin mumbled to himself, catching everyone's attention. He was standing in front of a large map of the northern parts of Middle-Earth.

"What is?" Denya asked, not pausing in her work.

"This map," Darin replied, touching it lightly with one hand, "it shows this city and its borders. And if I'm correct," he said slowly, tracing the red line around the city--which was huge, even on the map--to the surrounding areas, "then most of the north is under their control."

"Why is that strange?" Anex asked, standing to get a better look at the map.

"Because then Mount Gundabad would be their territory," Darin said, looking at them. "And that means we need their permission to go there."

"Screw that, we'll go anyway," Denya said.

"It might not be that simple," Anex said, his eye going over the map several times. "If the mountain is under their control..." He trailed off as everyone raised their heads and looked at the map, understanding in their faces.

"Then the Orcs would be following their orders," Legolas finished.

Auron nodded. "That could be, only if they control it."

"The map could be outdated," Dias said. "Or the Orcs could be following someone else's orders entirely."

"I guess we'll have to wait for Caled," Legolas said with a shrug. When he said her name, his shoulder gave a sudden twitch, making it rub it absently. Legolas thought he could hear a faint whisper, but forgot about it as Darin suddenly gave a shout.

"It can't be!" he said, eyes wide as he examined another map.

"What? What is it?" they asked him, but he did not answer. He probably did not even hear them.

Darin went from one map to another, one picture to the next, muttering something under his breath. At one point, he paused, making a motion with his hands as if he was pulling out a sword. He only stopped when the doors opened.

Caled walked in, looking drained but fine. She said something to the guards that had accompanied her and they nodded. Bowing at her then the others, they closed the doors, leaving her with them. She nervously looked at them, then dropped her gaze to the floor. "I...I guess you want some answers, huh?" Caled said in a small voice.

"That would be helpful, yes," Denya said, a slight sneer in her tone.

Legolas glared at her, making her shut up instantly. Turning to Caled, he said in a gentle tone, "Only if you're ready to give them, Caled."

Caled bit her lip then said, "I am. As some of you have probably guessed, the people here, in this city...they are not Men." She slowly raised her head. "They are---"

"---The Shadow Elves."

Eyes turned to Darin, who was still studying a map. "We're in the last community of Shadow Elves, aren't we?" he asked.

Stunned by his knowledge, Caled nodded. "How do you---"

"The Old Hermit told me a lot about them," Darin said. "About their past, how they came to be, their weapons--so much in fact, it was like he knew I would come across one." As he said the last part, he turned around, his gaze on Caled suspiciously.

"Yes," Caled said to his unasked question, "and no. This will take a while," she said to herself. Taking a breath she began.

"It is true that Shadow Elves are the result of a magic spell gone wrong. No one can remember what started it, but the Elves that had crossed over were on the brink of war with each other. Someone thought that the spell would be the only way to prevent war, so they tried it. The Elves that were unchanged by the spell shunned those who were, and they have lived in the North ever since."

"How exactly were they changed?" Auron broke in.

"Half of them," Caled answered, looking as though she felt a bit better getting this off her chest at last, "were granted the power and attributes of fire. As you have seen, part of the population here have fire-like appearances: golden, red, or orange hair and glowing eyes, usually red or gold. They can generate fireballs and control flames that have already been made. They call themselves the Fire-Shadows.

"The other half were granted power and attributes of trees and the earth: green or brown hair and deep eyes of the same colors. They can manipulate any plant they can see as well as converse with them as easily as a living person. They are the Tree-Shadows.

"In addition to those abilities, they became stronger, more agile than normal Elves and faster, their senses were lowered to that of Man. The name 'Shadow Elf' can also be read as 'remains of an Elf' or 'once were Elves.' This was because they have an average life span of twenty thousand years, appearing immortal to Men. However, they are prone to sickness."

Caled paused taking a breath before continuing, "The Shadow Elves are also able to conjure the 'spirits' of fire and the earth into physical, living bodies with their own mind. They call them sprites. You've seen some of them in the city. Depending on the Shadow Elf, the sprite will be different. Some are like children, in appearance or behavior, some are old, some could pass as Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, anything. And, they are capable of doing almost anything as long as it lies within their element."

For a while, no one spoke. Then, Rali said, "Where do you fit into this?"

Again, a nervous look crossed Caled's face. "Over the eons," she said at last, "the two kept strict boundaries between them. Fire-Shadows only bedded Fire-Shadows, and Tree-Shadows with Tree-shadows. Then, they asked the question no one had approached since their creation: What would happen if the two have offspring together? There were many theories, but they had been too scared of the outcome. Some feared the parents would die or the child would, for one reason or another. Then, a group came forward and volunteered to do it. The result was nothing like they expected.

"The offspring not only had both the abilities of their parents, but they were stronger. They had an incredible immunity to disease and an increased life span. You could also say they were more 'durable' and had more stamina. But, there was an unexpected side effect: the children, upon reaching adulthood, developed mental powers. No one knows why, but they were capable of telepathy, telekinetic, and other things. The normal Shadow Elves considered them better than themselves and they were treated with the highest of respect."

As this information sunk in, realization did so as well. "And you're one of them?" Aurora asked carefully.

Caled shook her head. "No. I'm what they call a 'second-generation hybrid.' Both of my parents were original hybrids."

"There were others, weren't there?" Denya said quickly, before anyone could stop her.

Pain flashed through Caled's face.

"Well?" Denya pressed. "Were there or weren't there?"

Legolas shot Denya a warning look. The Half-Avari chose to ignore it. "There must have been," she went on, standing on top of the table. "After all, that entire room caused a scene when you said you were the only survivor. And..." she drawled, her eyes glowing briefly, "from what I can gather, you were kidnapped. Some time ago, too. What happened to them?"

"Denya!" Auron suddenly said forcefully.

The black-haired Elf turned on him, her stance aggressive. "Don't order me around, Auron!" she shouted. "I will get answers!" She rounded back on Caled, who was trembling slightly. "What happened to them? Or can't you remember?" She sneered, "You've been quiet long enough, Caled. Can't you trust us? Can't you tell us the whole truth? I know you hid the details from me. You tell us half-truths and only slight information but spill your life's story to some git and his brat harlot of a daughter!"

"Denya," Legolas hissed, his eyes narrowed in barely controlled rage. His hands were already on his daggers.

"You've spoken too much already, Denya," Anex said, his hand hovering above his sword hilt.

"Calm, Denya," Clad said.

Denya snarled, glaring around the room to see that everyone was ready to deal with her. Growling, she muttered darkly under her breath and sat down on the table with a huff.

---

That night, Denya sat atop the roof of the huge mansion they had stayed in the night before, carving her woodblock. Her ferret---which seemed to have the ability to disappear and reappear at will---scampered around, trying to catch the small insects flying around. That was how Legolas found her. He was still angry at her for earlier words to Caled, but had found a note from her asking him to meet her. Hoping to find an answer, Legolas had decided to meet her.

"Denya," Legolas said, catching her attention.

"I'm not gonna apologize for what I said to her," Denya said, eyes still on her carving. "I meant it, Leafy. I did."

"What are you so angry at her for?" Legolas asked, knowing that something must have happened to spur Denya to ask Caled such personal questions.

Ignoring his question, Denya asked instead, "How can you trust her?"

Her question caught him off guard. "What?"

"You fight with her, she wounded you, she calls you names, she's even tried to kill you."

"What are you---"

"She has!" At this Denya stopped and looked at him. "When we were traveling up here, she tried to kill you. I saw her!" she exclaimed at his unbelieving stare. "She was standing over you with her dagger. She was muttering something about needing to have done away with you a long time ago. If I hadn't snapped that twig she would have done it. How can you trust someone who almost killed you?"

Instead of replying, Legolas simply gave her a cold glare and turned, jumping down from the roof and heading off to the forest that was inside the gates. Denya followed him with her eyes, tears building in them.

Cursing herself, Denya pulled a bottle out of her bag and downed part of it. She stared at the peeling label as she felt the hard liquor burning down her throat. "How, Legolas?" she whispered, the tears falling down her cheeks as she took another swig. "How can you trust someone like her with your heart?"

---

Legolas sought solitude within the trees. The forest here was much older than any other he had ever seen, even Fangorn. They were huge and could have easily hidden the buildings built close by them in their branches. As with that forest so far away, the trees here seemed to also have reached a state of consciousness. The branches he continually leapt from easily caught him and pushed to aid his next arch. Try as he might, Legolas found none of the ease he wished.

Legolas was not blind. He knew why Denya was acting as she was. She was hurt and taking it out on Caled. Their talk had finally shown him why.

Legolas did not know what to think about Denya's feelings towards him. He hoped since their meeting that it was simply infatuation and nothing more. During their journey, he had grown used to her flirting and thought nothing of it. Now, though... It seemed he had a serious situation on his hands.

Sighing, Legolas came to a stop, leaning against the trunk of the tree. He loved Caled. He knew the feelings he felt towards her were indeed love. In Denya he saw no more that a good friend that he would sooner die than hurt. And yet he had.

He uttered curses at himself, dropping to sit on the branch. "What am I to do?"

**_/...kill..._**

The Elf jerked, eyes searching for the voice. The tree shuddered.

**_/...just...kill...them..._**

"Who's there?" Legolas called out, feeling for his dagger.

**_/no one. just yourself_**

Legolas blinked. The voice was stronger now but still appeared to be forced, like the speaker was weak. "What do you mean?"

**_/think about it. can you really hear me?_**

Pausing, Legolas listened intently.

**_/i thought not._**

"What are you?" Legolas snapped.

**_/your conscience._**

"You lie."

**_/why would i? after all, that is the only solution to your problem. kill both of them._**

"I would never do such a thing!" Legolas shouted.

The voice laughed, the sound shrill and raspy. **_/can you deny that you have not thought about it? both have been thorns in your side for long enough. and the rest of the guild as well. they are all such nuisances. you would do well to kill them..._**

"Shut up!" Legolas demanded. The voice had pulled from his mind images of what it spoke, him killing them all with his own hands.

"Wow! A Wood-Elf talking to himself! I never thought I'd see that!"

Legolas jerked his head up, meeting a pair of cheerful eyes that were golden with red and green in them. "You!" he said, recognizing the boy. A pain shot through his head as the voice he had heard gave out a snarl then a shriek.

"Calm down," the boy said, rolling his eyes. "I won't hurt you." He looked over at Legolas from his place, hovering in the air beside the branch.

"Who are you?" the Wood-Elf said. This was his third time to see the boy and though he had done nothing to him, Legolas was wary.

The boy grinned. "Who I am is almost beyond your comprehension," he said, voice mingling with laughter. "What I am is even more so."

"Do you have a name?" Legolas said, somehow irritated that this boy was at ease around him and appeared to know a lot about the Elf.

The boy shrugged, a mature face slipping onto his features. "Some simply call me Seeker," he said.

"All right then, Seeker," Legolas said, vaguely recalling that he had said something about being 'the One Who Seeks' during their first meeting, "is there a reason you're following me?"

Seeker laughed, turning somersaults in the air. "Following you?" he chuckled. "No, no, my dear Elf. It is not you I'm following."

"Then who?" Legolas said next, flipping his dagger into hand. "If you mean harm to anyone in my company, you'll die."

"Your words are futile!" the boy laughed, grinning. "Besides, you wouldn't kill me!" His eyes narrowed, dancing with a wicked shine to them. "Or would you if you knew..."

"If I knew what?" Legolas replied, briefly contemplating whether or not to kill the boy where he was.

"Do you want to see what I'm following?" he said, somehow looking like a cheerful child while his eyes kept their malice. Without waiting for the answer, the boy flew off.

Legolas followed, though how he kept up with the boy he did not know. His feet somehow knew where to go and soon he found the boy hovering in the air again, his head angled so he was looking down at the forest floor. "Down there," Seeker whispered.

Following his gaze, Legolas saw something on the ground reflecting the moonlight. Glancing at the boy, Legolas jumped down, landing neatly beside the reflective substance. When he realized what it was, he stopped, numbness creeping through his limbs in mild shock.

It was a skeleton. By the way it was arranged, it appeared as if the person had been attacked. Stretched out on one side, its hands were reaching out as if trying to reach something just out of grasp. Looking down, he saw that the legs had been broken viciously.

The shift in the air behind him told him that the boy had come down. "This is what you're following?" Legolas said quietly, not wanting to disturb the final resting place of the bones.

The boy shook his head. "This," he said slowly, voice void of emotion, "is where my search started. I am following the killer of this girl."

"Then why does your search follow me and my companions?"

Seeker was silent. Legolas looked at him over his shoulder. A pair of golden, red, and green eyes met his blue ones in a steady gaze. The boy seemed to be weighing on some decision in his mind. Then, he nodded, muttering to himself before saying, "The one I am following is also tracking your companions."

As soon as he said this, Legolas recalled Rynno saying something similar, that they were not alone. But how? Someone would have noticed it. And certainly Caled would have since he had guessed that Rynno's abilities with the trees was what told him.

Seeker turned his eyes to their left, his ends of his mouth moving in a sad, ironic smile. "He is also the one responsible for her suffering." Something in his tone told Legolas to go, to see who he was talking about. The Elf complied, tightening his grip on his dagger. He slowly parted the underbrush and walked softly until he saw what the boy meant.

The forest ended about a yard or two in front of him, forming part of a great clearing. In the center of the clearing was a large crater, the ground cracked around it. It looked as if there had been an explosion there some time ago. Legolas saw none of this, however. his eyes were set on the small figure standing at the edge of the crater.

_Caled._

She stood, arms hugging herself as she gazed at the crater. For some reason she was smiling. After a moment, she spoke.

"So many years," Caled whispered, oblivious to Legolas and the boy. "I can't believe I'm here. I thought I'd never see this place again." She sighed. Her breathing grew shaky a she said, "I made it back, guys. I know...I know we swore that we're come back together. Cali still had to beat me in holding our breath under the water." She chuckled, crouching down to sit comfortably on the dusty, dry ground. "Jaycon and I had that sand castle to build for his new sister. By the Valar...I still remember when we first came here. Our secret place. It was so wonderful, we couldn't stop thanking Seena." Her voice caught in her throat when she spoke the name. "We wouldn't leave either. We stayed until dawn, watching the sun rise over the water. I can't count the number of times we did that afterwards." Her face darkened, tears brimming her eyes. "If only the sun had risen earlier that day..."

Caled paused, wiping her face as the tears escaped her. "You guys wouldn't believe how I turned out. I can still hear Denni saying that if any of us would make it, it would be me... Theo as well," she choked, her face contorting in pain. "Theo always said I had mom's stubbornness. He always teased me about it!" she sobbed. "Theo, Denni, Seena, Drake, Cali, Jaycon! Gods, I miss you guys some much!"

Caled's cries cut through Legolas' heart. He started to approach her.

A sudden, icy feeling passed through his stomach from his back. Legolas looked down in time to see a hand pull back. Snapping his head around, he saw Seeker. The boy was looking down at his own hand as if the appendage had done it on its own. Rising his multi-colored orbs, he shook his head, whispering, "Leave her alone."

"But--" Legolas started.

"Only one who knew her pain can console her," the boy interrupted. "And they are no longer." He nodded at the Elf's unspoken question. "Yes, there were others like her. Other second-generation hybrids once walked this world with her. Now she is utterly alone, not even the first-generations remain. They all either died from grief or took their own life." He looked at Caled, sudden pained look flashing across his face. "She is the last of her kind...nothing can take away that pain."

Legolas turned his eyes once more to Caled, steeling himself against the urge to go to her. He knew the boy was right, that he could do nothing to help her. Yet that did not mean he did not want to try.

Soon, Caled stopping crying. Scrubbing her face dry with her sleeves, she stood, her red eyes memorizing this place. "I made it Denni," she said quietly, smiling. "I made it, Theo. Watch over me. I will stop him...I will make sure he suffered as we did..." Silently, she turned and walked off.

"Time for me to go as well," the boy said, catching Legolas' attention. Seeker's body began to fade. "I will be following him, so you may see me once more, Wanderer," he said to Legolas, who frowned at the name. "The others--especially her--must not know that I am. You will be the only one who can see me." He vanished.

---

The next morning, Auron called everyone together. "How do we approach them about getting to Mount Gundabad?" he asked Caled when they were certain no one could hear them (thanks to Dias' spells.)

"You will have no troubles in getting there," Caled replied. "The mountain is no longer in their control. They lost interest in it some time ago. However..." She paused, looking around at everyone. "The only problem will be with me. They don't want me to leave this village," she explained. "And they have the means to keep me here if they want to."

"Kill 'em all!" Denya said, wincing. She had a severe hangover and refused to take any of the medicine Aurora tried to give her. They had found her in the wine cellars, most of the bottles empty and broken.

"Denya, use that brain of yours!" Darin grumbled. "Half the town can incinerate us and the other half and swallow us up in the ground."

"You also have to take into account the sprites," Anex added.

"The sprites are extremely protective of their masters," Caled agreed. "If we attack, then we have the sprites to deal with. Even if we managed to kill them, the sprites won't be so easy since they cannot be killed with our weapons."

"We could smuggle you out," Aurora suggested.

Caled shook her head. "Wouldn't work. Kurra's got it drilled into her father's head that you are sorcerers and could try that. He wants you to leave the village, as soon as possible, but he also wants to make sure that I will be left behind as well. He'd put me under guard just to be safe."

"Bribe the guard?" Dias said.

"They have no need for money," Caled said simply.

"Actually, the smuggling idea would work. You would just need a decoy."

Everyone turned to the voice. Rynno was leaning against the door, smiling smugly.

"How did you get in!" Denya exclaimed, hangover forgotten.

"I have my ways," he said. "As do the other guards." He grew serious and said, "Unlike some people---namely Kurra---I believe that you have not kidnapped Lady Caled-Veleg. I also disagree with the order that she stay here." He looked at them all in the eye as he said, "I will assist you in getting her out."

"How could we get a decoy?" Caled said.

"Easy," Rynno smirked. He raised a hand and uttered something. A puff of smoke surrounded his hand then immediately cleared. Perched in his palm was a small person, a girl. She had shimmering green hair and large, doe-like eyes that shifted between blue and green--one of which she winked at the startled onlookers. On her back was a pair of long, thin wings like a dragonfly's. "This is En-Tyner. My sprite," Rynno explained.

"How can she help?" Denya said, looking doubtful.

En-Tyner flew up, landing on the table. She spun around and then, in the blink of an eye, shot up, transforming. She stood, now the mirror image of Caled. She looked over herself, then grinned in satisfaction.

"I also know a back way out of the village," Rynno said, drawing their attention. "I will lead Lady Caled-Veleg out that way and meet with the rest of you at the base of the mountain, just where the trees end," he ended.

"But if they find out--" Caled started.

Rynno held up a hand to stop her. "I care not of the consequences," he smiled. "If this means I will lose my station or life, then so be it."

"If you are sure," Auron said, holding out a hand.

Rynno nodded, clasping his hand and shaking it firmly. "You'll be together by dusk," he said, glancing Legolas' way when he spoke.

----------

A. N. -- The song is from a book I read a long time ago. Can't remember the title, but I remember the song...so figure.


	25. Chapter XIX: The Unmanned Fortress

Chapter Nineteen - The Unmanned Fortress

The sky had long since turned its twilight colors, the deep blue punctured by the brightly shining stars and the full moon. The small glow of a fire deep within the thick forest barely managed to reach the canopy of leaves, those around the fire silent. They had been waiting for some time. All had solemn faces, some glanced at each other in worry every so often.

One had not moved from his place since the sun had first started to fall, seated near the edge of their makeshift campsite, his eyes trained directly in front of him. The only movement he made was his fist tightening its hold on a knife now and then. Several times one of his companions would call his name only to be greeted by stony silence, sigh, and return to the fire, clasping the hand of the white-haired Elf. He would squeeze her hand in assurance, though his eyes as well flickered to the same place as the other, fear flashing in them.

Denya was the only one who moved constantly. She sat up in a tree, Tan a few branches higher than her as he was keeping a lookout, taking turns glaring at Legolas' form, in the direction they had come from, to the Mountain looming ominously just ahead of them, then to whatever bottle she had in her hand. She drank almost violently as she snarled, muttering to herself. One leg swung in agitation off the branch as the other kept her balance. Her hand that was not holding a bottle twirled a dagger in her hand just to keep busy.

Below the tree, Clad sat, hand loose on his sheathed sword. Though none of the others could see it, he periodically turned his head within his hood and looked up at Denya. He made no other movements.

Auron glanced upwards to the sky that the branches could not block and let out a soft sigh. His calm demeanor had long since been replaced by his own concern, showing the others how serious this situation was.

They had seen no sign of Caled or Rynno.

Mornie had been the first to become anxious when dusk had started to fall and nothing had happened. He had said nothing but everyone sensed that he knew something was wrong, more so than they thought. His bond with Caled was reason enough to have grown worried when the creature did. Yet it had been his startled, half-whispered words that caused the silent atmosphere, "Not now. Please, no." He was now sitting by Legolas in his cat-like form, still as a statue.

And so they had waited, not bothering to count the hours, until they found some clue of what was going on.

After probably the twelfth time Aurora had attempted in talking to Legolas, Denya rolled her eyes, surprising the others by jumping off her perch and walking off. They did not follow her, certain she had her own reason for wanting to be alone.

Denya continued to push her way through the foliage, knowing due to her hearing that there was a stream nearby. She knew none of the others would be listening, too concerned to keep an ear out for signs of Caled, and therefore her muttering grew a bit louder and harsher. The only time she broke off was to breathe or drink from the bottle. She reached the stream as the last of the liquid found its way down her throat. She tossed it into the bag at her side and crouched by the water. Denya leaned over and looked into the stream.

Staring back at her was her own reflection. Her eyes narrowed as they studied themselves in the clear water. The blue and green hues in her irises were blurred together, slowly coming sharper again at an alarming rate.

Denya swore blackly, ripping her bag open and searching for another full bottle. She opened it with some difficulty as her hands were shaking. Leaning her head back and gulping down a large sum of it, she was barely able to hear the footsteps coming from behind her. She lowered the bottle with a loud exhaling breath and snarled, "What do you want, Anex?"

The Avari merely smiled slightly at her back, leaning against a tree. "To make sure you don't fall over and drown yourself," he said. He chuckled when she growled at him. "You've taken enough alcohol to kill a man. It would only be natural that one would be worried for your health."

"Save me your worry," Denya snapped, taking another drink as she stood. "You're not my father."

"No, but I am concerned about you," Anex said, a firm tone in his usually calm voice. "Avari have a higher tolerance than some Elves, but even so, most would have become unconscious if they took as much as you have. Why the sudden urge?"

Denya did not answer. She stared at a point just over the stream.

Anex studied her carefully, noting the stiffness in her posture and the way she continually fiddled with her dagger. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were hiding something," he said slowly, watching for her reaction.

The liquid in the bottle shifted suddenly, caused by a slight twitch from her hand. It was only thanks to his keen eye that he had caught it.

Anex groaned, a look of apprehension on his face as he said, "Denya, please tell me I'm imagining things again. Tell me you're not doing what it is I think you're doing."

"Once we start fighting I'll be fine," Denya muttered. "The alcohol will break up if enough adrenaline is pumping through my system. I'll be fine," she repeated when he did not reply.

"No, you won't," Anex said. "What is it? What happened? Why are you hiding it?"

"...I don't want to see that look on his face again," Denya said quietly, managing to cover the catch in her voice as she took another drink.

"So, you did talk to him last night," Anex said, sitting down.

"Of course," Denya huffed. "How could I not? All of you were ready to incapacitate me in that room when I confronted her."

"You were saying things you had no place to say."

"I wanted the truth," Denya shot back.

"You know more than we do, more than Legolas does," Anex pointed out. "She trusted you enough to tell what happened to her."

"She didn't say everything," Denya roared. "She conveniently left out the part about there being more like her. She said nothing about being a Shadow Elf. Nothing about a whole community wanting her found no matter what the cost. All she told me was why she hates Elves!" Swearing, Denya finally looked at Anex. "That was enough for me to want to kill something in rage! She had no right to go through something like that! But she said nothing else! That was it!"

Anex stared at her. During her rambling she had not taken any more of the drink and the reaction was already taking place: her eyes were glowing brightly enough to illuminate the night air around them.

Denya stopped, catching the sudden change in his expression. Her eyes widened and she cursed again, immediately downing the rest of the bottle. The glow subsided. "Don't---don't tell Auron," she whispered hoarsely, her throat burning in protest at the harsh liquid.

"Denya, what is going on? Why are you doing this to yourself?" Anex pressed. It had become clear why she was consuming so much alcohol; the harsh percentage within the drink was enough to numb her senses, allowing her eyes to cloud over and the glow to stop. Yet it would only worked if she continued with the drinking and that was very dangerous.

The apprehension in his voice had not been lost to the younger Elf yet her hands shook. "Don't tell him," Denya repeated thickly, keeping her eyes on the ground. Her hand tightened on the bottle. "Please," she pleaded when she received no response.

Slowly, Anex nodded though his mind was still asking questions. He knew, as well as everyone else, that she was very attracted to Legolas. And, though he never admitted it out loud, he had thought that what it was that attracted her was merely his good looks or just of the sex appeal--though he did not really think that was the case. Now her actions and the lasting glow from her eyes made him doubt that.

Something had happened, something that had felt an emotional wound too deep for Denya to simply forget it. But why was it happening? Why now of all times? What happened the night before that was doing this to her?

A rustle caught their attention before Darin appeared. A relieved look was on his face. "She's back," he said, motioning for them to come.

---

Caled was sitting by the fire, half-heartedly protesting as Aurora tended to several wounds she had. According to what she told them, she and Rynno had just gotten out of the city when they ran into Kurra and about ten or so Fire-Guards. Nothing had been said yet they all attacked. It had taken almost all of their strength to break away, trying to put as much distance between them and the city before Kurra called for more of her guards. Rynno had stayed behind, keeping them back as Caled went on.

"He might still be back there," she was saying when Darin returned with Denya and Anex. "If we hurry, we can--"

"No," Auron cut in. "He understood what could happen to him and still agreed to help us. We will go back once our business is done here." He glanced up at Mount Gundabad. A silence blanketed the group as they all thought the same thing: it would soon be over.

"When do we leave?" Legolas asked, appearing to be in a better mood now that Caled was back. When Denya had noticed this, she emptied another bottle, causing Anex to look at her in concern.

"Whenever we're prepared," Auron said simply.

It was barely an hour later when they set off, grim faced, in the direction of the mountain.

Out of all of them, Legolas was the most anxious. He could not shake the thought out of his head that this was the end of his journey with Caled. Depending on what they found, they could very well part company before daybreak. His mind was working furiously, trying to think of something that could give him a legitimate reason to stay with her.

So preoccupied was his mind that he almost ran into Dias when the white-haired Elf stopped in front of him. Everyone had stopped just inside the end of the forest. Towering before them was Mount Gundabad.

Legolas heard Denya give a soft grunt, shifting the bottle in her hands so she could remove several bracelets from her left arm. She tossed them haphazardly around to everyone then said after gulping down the rest of the bottle's contents, "Activate them now. Place them on your right wrist, cover with your left hand and said clearly 'Ko'Lea.' They should glow." When they did so, she glanced around, her eyes rolling slightly in what looked like annoyance towards Anex, and sighed, flipping her black and silver daggers into her hands, "Okay. Let's go."

Stooping low to the ground, everyone rushed over the uneven stone ground, easily avoiding loose rocks and gravel. It was only a matter of time before they reached the base of the mountain. Darin sped ahead along with Tan as the others paused under the shelter of a large boulder. This was part of the initial plan: Darin and Tan would find a way inside the mountain as everyone waited. Supposedly, Darin knew of a trick door somewhere near the eastern part of the mount's base. They would find it and open it before sending Tan back to the others. If too many of them had gone it would more than likely have alerted any guards.

Yet so far there had been none.

Once Tan returned, they slowly followed him, senses alert to anything out of the ordinary. Darin was waiting beside a large, dark opening in the ground, looking very anxious. He motioned silently towards the opening, nodding. One by one, they dropped down through the gap and were swallowed into the blackness.

As he jumped in, the first thing Legolas noticed was that the area he had dropped into was vast. Even though it was pitch black, he could feel the floor was far below him and that the walls were well beyond reach of human eyesight. His fall continued and he tensed, readying himself for contact with the floor whenever it would come. It had suddenly become very cold, his breath fogging before him as he took slow, even breathes. How deep did this hole go?

Following what seemed like several minutes, his feet made contact with solid ground. He heard breathing coming from in front of him and hurried towards it, knowing it was the others. Dias had lit a small blue flame that he held in his hand, holding it above his head so the others could see. Legolas saw with surprise that they were standing by a pair of doors. What surprised him was that there was no wall the doors were set into, just empty space. He glanced over at Dias, who had seen his questioning look at the doors, and shrugged.

Caled was sitting by the doors, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering slightly from the cold. Her red eyes were staring fixedly at the door, a strange expression gleaming in them from the light Dias' flame cast. As if sensing his gaze on her, Caled looked up at Legolas. He smiled encouragingly at her, wanting to say something that could calm her worries about Rynno but staying silent, as everyone had agreed they should. She blinked, obviously confused, but did not look away as she had done in the past. This time, she smiled tentatively back before returning her eyes to the doors.

When everyone had joined them, they looked to Darin for explanation but he shrugged. Caled stepped forward and motioned for Dias to extinguish his flame. Once he did, they heard her walking over to the doors. A flash of light told them she had created a fireball and in an instant it was gone, replaced by a warm glow issuing from the opened doors, leading to a flight of stairs that lead upwards. Caled rubbed her neck sheepishly, then jerked her head toward the stairs.

As they climbed the stairs, Legolas noticed the walls seemed to be tinting a blue hue from behind him. At first he thought Dias had conjured another flame but he noticed that the sorcerer was beside him. Before he could investigate the matter, the stairs abruptly ended into a large room that appeared as if it had been cut from black stone. More startling was the fact that the room was crawling with Reapers.

Before anyone could initiate battle, one Reaper separated itself from the rest and came forward. They instantly recognized it as one of the Reaper Elite by the stripe of sea green hair falling into its matching eyes. Denya growled when seeing him, clearly remembering their interrupted fight from the last time they met.

The Reaper smirked towards her and bowed. "Welcome," it said in a mock polite tone. "We've been expecting you. Moreover," it straightened and laughed, "I have been given a message to you all. My master wishes to extend his invitation to all of you. He is in the topmost chamber of the tower. Do not worry; it is not very far because the mountain is made to look bigger than the tower itself. He will only greet those that have reached the room within half an hour. Best of luck to you all." He stopped, his large eyes glancing towards the back at Caled. He grinned maliciously at her. "Additional, to Lady Caled-Veleg: An answer to the question you seek awaits, regardless of your timing."

Legolas felt rather than saw Caled stiffen at his side. Mornie let out a low growl, his teeth bared as he shifted into his wolf form.

"Timing starts now," the Reaper Elite said, snapping his arm out to the side. The other Reapers behind him hissed and shrieked in expectation. "Again, good luck." The Reaper Elite vanished into thin air.

They were swarmed from all sides.

"Don't concentrate on them!" Legolas heard Auron shout as everyone separated. "Just get to the top!"

It was hard but for the most part they seemed to be able to avoid most of the Reapers. A few choice spells from Dias helped eliminate a good chunk of the mass and managed to clear a path for everyone to rush through.

Racing on, Legolas kept one eye on Caled as they tore through Reaper after Reaper. It seemed that the Reaper Elite's words had spurred her out of the worried state she had been in, forcing her to focus on the task at hand. Slicing the neck of a scarlet eyed Reaper that had been aiming for her back as she threw a violet striped on down for Mornie to sink his fangs into, Legolas said, "Glad to see your back to your fiery self!"

Caled scoffed, snapping her whip forward and catching a Reaper around the waist, flipping it over her head and driving her dagger into its heart. "Save it for later, Elf!" she said to him, though he thought he saw her smile again.

As he focused on defending himself, the Wood Elf saw that the Reapers were coming from a large doorway not far to their right. Guessing that was the way to the top of the tower, Legolas alerted his directions toward the door, making sure that Caled noticed it as well. Slowly, the rest caught on and sliced or tore their way to the doors. Sure enough, a set of stone steps spiraling upwards met them, packed with Reapers.

"Does it ever end?" Aurora exclaimed, shooting an arrow through a Reaper's eyes that had jumped from the stairs in hopes of catching them from above.

"Doesn't look like it!" Darin said, pushing the sharp metal tips of his Bo into the side of a Reaper's head. "Dias! Ready for another?" he called over his shoulder.

Dias nodded, catching his breath and grasping his staff with both hands. Darin flipped overhead and landing behind Dias, daring the Reapers to come at him with a grin. Aurora quickly got rid of those foolish enough to come within reach of her bow as Dias cast the spell. Thunder boomed a second before the spell fired, a streak of lightning racing around the others and exploding on the stairway, the carcasses of the Reapers caught by the blast falling to the floor.

"Let's go!" Auron said, starting to the stairs.

"Wait!"

Eyes turned to Clad, who was facing the doorway where several Reapers stood as if debating whether or not to attack them.

"What's wrong?" Tan said.

"Denya."

Legolas looked around, noticing for the first time that Denya was not with them. "Did she fall behind?" he said.

"We'll come back for her," Anex said harshly before anyone else could speak. "Let's go. Now!" he roared when no one moved. Though everything in his countenance said that he was indifferent to what had happened to Denya, Legolas saw as the Avari paused before following them up the steps and looked back at the doors that there was a painfully disquieted expression on his face.

Dias' spell had rid the stairs of Reapers but another landing full of the cursed beings were there to greet them. Through the chaos, Legolas' mind noted that if this kept up then they would not reach the chamber before their time was up. In addition to that, he became aware of the fact that a section of his bracelet was blinking slightly. An overzealous Reaper interrupted his thoughts before he could ponder about that. He quickly flipped his dagger and stabbed the Reaper in the forehead, catching it in the side and throwing it somewhere behind him.

After what seemed like hours, the Reapers currently attacking them were gone. They were the only ones left in a large, circular room, two doors set into the wall on the far right.

"At last!" Aurora sighed with relief. "They're gone!"

"Strange, isn't it?" Darin muttered but Aurora did not seem to hear him as she was looking over her shoulder in the direction they had left Denya.

"She's fine," Anex said with a meaningful motion to the bracelet around his own wrist, though one could barely see it for the thick, black blood that coated the majority of his body now. "Let's just find out what's going on."

"Which door?" Darin said, looking at first one then the other.

"You don't know?" Dias said to the Bo-wielding Elf.

Darin glared at him. "All I ever heard about this blasted tower was that it was a temporary housing for the Shadow Elves! The Old Hermit never went into detail about its inner workings! It's amazing he even knew about the trapdoor outside!"

As Darin finished yelling, he had kicked the nearest door to him. Flames erupted around the door's frame, flaring outwards and catching the hem of Darin's cloak. He cursed in surprise, stomping it out. "What was that?" he said as a few of the others burst into laughter.

"A defense spell, obviously," Dias chuckled, wincing at the pain a slash along his neck made. Shockingly enough, even with the immense number of Reaper they had to fight off, their injuries were few and far between and nothing more serious than a few broken ribs. Aurora looked at him in distress, obviously thinking of a way to force her medical 'concern' without having him protest.

"What about the other door?" Darin said, glancing at it with open hostility.

"Probably the same."

"Or is it?" Auron said, a thoughtful look on his face. "Think about it: this is a tower constructed by Shadow Elves. They must have made sure that any secrets they had would be well protected, including any rooms housing their secrets. Something about the top room must have been worth protecting from outsiders. From people who are not Shadow Elves…." he trailed off, his brown eyes settling on Caled.

Caled blinked, puzzled, then her eyes widened when she understood. "I'll see, but don't get your hopes up," she said with a slight sigh. Sheathing her dagger and winding her whip around her arm, she approached the door that had been enflamed moments before. She bit her lip, thinking, and then raised her hand, forming a small ball of green fire.

The fireball was sucked into the door as if there had been a vacuum there. The door glowed ominously.

Fortified by this, Caled went to the other door, swiftly looking around it before finding at the bottom a small crack where a tiny plant had sprouted. Stepping back, she once again raised a hand. The plant shot up, tendril shooting out and grasping along the doorframe. When the plant had formed its way around the entire door, it glowed.

The light issuing from both doors grew brighter, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. It slowly died away, leaving behind only one door.

Caled, her hand trembling, reached out and turned the knob. The door opened easily, allowing them access to the room.

----------

The floor was coated in blood and body parts. Eyes that once glowed shades of red and purple were now blank and motionless, many torn and damaged. From one of the many shadows in the room, Na'Tath watched the form of Kaha'Dak towards the center of the corpses. White eyes wide in fear at being caught, Na'Tath breathed low and evenly, not wanting to alert Kaha'Dak to her presence. She had been sent to make sure the Guild at least made it past this room, then to make sure no straggling Reapers when after them in hopes of killing one of the members.

Little did the Reaper know she would see her kind's most feared enemy.

Kaha'Dak growled something low and garbled, tearing off one of her long sleeves as she sat on the ground. She quickly bound the cloth around her head, covering her eyes. She was mumbling to herself in words that Na'Tath did not understand.

The Reaper began to ease her way back into the shadows and out of the room to continue watching the Guild's progress.

/**THUNK**

A dagger sunk into the stone floor by Na'Tath's hand. It had landed so close to her that a thin cut was left on her black skin. Na'Tath looked up to see Kaha'Dak slowly lower her arm, a frown on her face. The Reaper could not tell what expression it was since her eyes were covered.

"What are you?" Kaha'Dak spoke clearly; slightly out of breath from the energy she had spent slaying the other Reapers.

Na'Tath glanced around, trying to think of a way to distract Kaha'Dak so she could escape.

"I know you're there," Kaha'Dak continued, another dagger in her hand now. "Answer me: what are you? I know you're not a Reaper."

These words caused Na'Tath to stop. "What?" The word slipped before she could prevent it.

"I can smell your blood," Kaha'Dak said, almost lazily, "and it's not the same as Reaper blood. So, what are you?"

"Not….not the same?" Na'Tath whispered. What was Kaha'Dak talking about?

"Slow, aren't you?" Kaha'Dak snorted. "I won't ask again: what are you?"

Though her mind was numb at Kaha'Dak's words, Na'Tath felt something grab her from behind, ripping her into the shadows. She heard Kaha'Dak swear and felt a searing pain in her cheek. None of that mattered.

Kaha'Dak, the Reaper of Shadows, had said she was not a Reaper.

----------

"Is this a joke?"

Darin's words echoed in the room, causing some of them to jump as the silence was broken.

The room they were in looked like a study of some kind, shelves of books covering the walls, desks pushed against the spaces that were vacant, papers scattered about as if they had been thrown in haste around the place. The entire surface area of the room was covered in a thick layer of dust, evidence that it had not been used in years.

"What is going on?" Aurora said, looking around the room. "There's nothing here? What was all that about then?" she said, motioning somewhere behind her to indicate the way they had come.

"Did we not make it in time?" Dias said, also looking around.

Legolas could not help but feel frustrated. Were the Reapers just playing a game with them? Why tell them to meet with this so-called 'master' when nothing was there? And what about answering Caled's question? Legolas was sure the question was what they were originally sent here to do: find out why and how the Orcs were going around Middle-Earth. But what answers could they find in a dusty, unused room like this?

As he was thinking, Caled was standing rooted to her place just inside the room. For the longest time, she seemed to neither blink nor breathe. Then she strode across the room, dust billowing from the floor as she disrupted it. She roughly pushed aside a fallen chair and became still. In the space of seconds, all eyes turned to her, Dias watching in what looked like stunned surprised. Legolas could have sworn the white-haired Elf whispered, "De'ja vu."

Caled reached out and picked something up off the floor. It was a dusty bundle, several others lying on the floor. Slowly, Caled removed the dirty cloth. It was a short sword; the silver hilt glinted, as did the diamonds encrusted in it. She turned, tossing the cloth aside and drawing the sword out of the sheath. A strange light dawned on her face as she gazed up the length of the blade. "Is it….." Caled whispered, eyes widening. She shoved the sword back in the sheath. She knelt on the ground, pulling out the other bundles one by one and laying them on the floor behind her. She quickly removed the clothes as well and sat back, staring at the objects.

In total there were six weapons lying on the dusty floor: a bow, a pair of sai, the short sword, a bladed Bo, a matching set of daggers, and a broadsword. Everyone gathered closer to see the weapons clearly. All of them were made with silver and imbedded with different jewels.

"I can't believe they survived," Caled breathed.

"What are they?" Darin asked, looking at the Bo with sapphires adorning its bladed tips in interest.

"Shadow Elf weapons," Caled said. Without another word, she rose, moving to the nearest shelf and glancing over the many books placed there.

Knowing sooner or later she would explain why these weapons intrigued her and the reasoning for looking at the old books, everyone took this as a break, many sitting on the floor and relaxing. Aurora immediately went to everyone and began treating the few wounds they had. Dias put up a futile fight when she applied the dark paste to his slashed neck, muttering a few choice words after she was done.

Mornie, shifting to his cat form, seated himself by Legolas, who was watching Caled from his place on the floor. **_i see you're the silent vigil as ever,_** Mornie said, a smile in his mental voice.

Legolas merely glanced at Mornie, knowing the black creature could understand from his current emotions what his reply was.

Mornie chuckled quietly. **_yes, I know of your surveillance of CALED, LEGOLAS. don't worry, she's as clueless as ever. in some aspects,_** Mornie added.

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

Mornie's golden eyes turned to the weapons still lying on the floor. **_strange, isn't it?_** he said, echoing Darin's earlier words. **_we scarcely miss the time limit yet there is no evidence that the room has had any occupants for decades. We find several weapons in excellent condition, weapons we can use to our advantage…..and plenty of clues for the answer._**

"What was the question to begin with?" Legolas said, wanting to know.

Mornie sighed, laying his head on his crossed legs. **_what i could sense from the REAPER ELITE--which was not much, for some reason i am not able to probe their minds as easily as others--the answer CALED seeks is most certainly in this room. the only problem is, what question was the REAPER ELITE speaking of. yes,_** Mornie went on before Legolas could ask. **_CALED has more than one reason for coming here. it is quite possible that the answer is what we were originally here for: how the ORCS are appearing and disappearing around MIDDLE-EARTH. yet it is also possible that it is not what the REAPER ELITE was referring to._**

They rested as Caled poured over the books in the room, several times flinging one over her shoulder in frustration. Several times Aurora would try to get some answer out of her, but she was ignored every time. During this time, Anex wordlessly left the room. No one had to ask where he had gone for it was quite obvious that he was going to check on Denya. When he returned, he was alone but did not say anything pertaining to their comrades whereabouts. About that time, Darin and Dias were arguing loudly.

"I say it was a trick to begin with," Darin said, angrily thumping the end of his Bo against the bookshelf he was leaning against. "They just wanted to try and kill us so they lured us here with the promise of finding what we want to know."

"So then why did they give us a time limit and all the Reapers disappear after the time limit passed?" Dias pressed, shifting as Aurora laid her head on his shoulder, yawning. "If it was to confuse us, they would have sent more after the time limit was over, not stop altogether."

"More trickery."

"Darin," Aurora said in a warning tone, "don't make me shove a sedative down your throat."

Darin glared in reply.

"Just because nothing's here does not mean that the answer's not here," Dias went on.

"As if there's gonna be an answer about how Orcs are being transported across the face of Middle-Earth in a room centuries old!"

"There are plenty of answers here."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and eyes went to Caled.

With a sigh, Caled shut the cover to a particularly large book she had been reading for over twenty minutes. Turning around, she finally addressed everyone. "Darin is right," she said. "This was planned. But," she continued when Darin opened his mouth to speak, "Dias is also right. There is an answer here." She raised the book in her hands and wiped the dust off the cover. Faded, almost nonexistent letters were there, written in a language none of them recognized.

"This is a journal," Caled said, "written by the original owners of this room. The first leaders of the Shadow Elves. It was started just after the construction of this tower. In it, they speak of their search for land they can claim as their own as well as their discoveries of their abilities, back when they were first created. The last entry," she opened the book, flipping quickly to a page in the back, "says that they found a suitable bit of land. They were planning to seal all the documents they had in this room so that their enemies, which they say were many in number, could never get hold of it and use it against them. It also says they will leave the remainders of the Jui-Pahl here, for whoever has great need of them. It ends with the mention of the Gry-Kah."

Closing the book, Caled raised her eyes, looking up to the ceiling. Following her gaze everyone saw, nearly hidden under the massive cobwebs and dust, a dome shaped structure. Through the mass of filth, a low, pulsating gray light could be seen. "That is the Gry-Kah," Caled said, drawing their attention back. "Their first successful transportation device. It magnifies whatever is sent through it, enabling the one using it to sent things further than they would have been able to alone."

Sighing again, Caled dropped to the floor, bowing her head in her hands. "I had it all wrong," she said quietly, almost to herself. "It was so obvious, I should have seen it. They've been playing games this whole time. They're not here. They've never been here."

Silent glances were exchanged, no one sure of what to say. "Everyone makes mistakes, Caled," Aurora said soothingly.

Caled did not reply.

Shifting nervously, Legolas said in hopes of redirecting her thoughts, "What is the Jui-Pahl they wrote of? What is that?"

Raising her head, Caled motioned to the weapons lying on the ground. "Their only weapon against the Reapers," she said with a sigh. "I don't know how they work but supposedly they have a very strong magic in them that attacks the core of the Reaper, killing it from within, but I don't know…." She reached to her side and withdrew her red-jeweled dagger from the sheath. "This is one of them." She made a face, counting each of the Jui-Pahl. She stood, brushing herself off. "We should get going, we've been here too long," she said curtly.

Everyone began to gather their things, Aurora, Darin, Dias and Tan helping Caled carry the Jui-Pahl, which she said she would give to the Shadow Elves since the weapons belonged to them anyway. It was a somewhat somber trek back down the way they had come, each stewing over what Caled had said. On the one hand, part of Legolas was relieved. Perhaps this meant that they would be able to stay together, at least for a while longer as they figure out who was sending the Orcs through the Gry-Kah.

_Perhaps……_

"Denya!" Aurora gasped, bringing Legolas back to the present. They had entered the room where they had last seen the blue-haired Elf. Amid the bloody mess in the room sat Denya, a thoughtful frown on her face. "What happened? Are you all right?"

At first Legolas did not see what made Aurora so worried, but as Denya turned towards them the cloth tied securely around her eyes became more apparent.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Denya said with a slight laugh. "I just…got some stuff in my eyes and the light hurt them. I'm fine," she said again, hearing Aurora beginning to fumble through her bag while still holding onto the Jui-Pahl bow, the emeralds flashing in the light from Dias' fire.

As Aurora, and even Darin, berated Denya for her reckless abandonment, Anex was staring at Denya, a cross between an angry and a troubled expression on his face.

Once she had convinced Aurora that she was fine, Denya inquired what had happened after they parted ways. They told her of the room, the old journals, the Jui-Pahl and the Gry-Kah as they continued their way back, managing to find another way out that did not involve climbing out of the hole through which they had come in. For the most part, they were tired and looking forward to nothing more than just rest, even if it was in the Shadow Elf community. It was understandable when they did not see him at first.

As they emerged from the mountain, stepping carefully on the loose rocks and gravel, a man was waiting for them. He was seated atop a large boulder close to the exit they were using, watching them with interest. It was not until Tan glanced back to make sure the door was secured and camouflaged as it was supposed to be that the man was seen.

"Who are you?" Tan shouted, hands twirling his sai into place. His shout caught the others' attention.

The man chuckled, jumping down to the ground and leaning casually against the boulder. He was tall and very skinny. His hair was black with the exception of the front half, which was a blood red color. His eyes were large with strangely small slits for eyes, the irises a shimmering gold. If it had not been for his pale, almost white skin they would have taken him for a Reaper.

"Calm down," the man said, in a surprisingly deep voice. "I am not here to harm you."

"Then what are you doing here?" Auron demanded.

"Wait!" Caled gasped, pushing forward so she could see the man clearly. Her eyes widened. "You--You're a Sprite!" she said, more a statement than a question.

The man nodded then his face grew serious. "I'm afraid I am the bringer of bad news," he said. He sighed, looking as if he was wondering how to say what he had to say. Shrugging, he raised a thin arm and pointed to the sky behind them. They turned, wondering what was going on.

Great clouds of black smoke obscured the sunrise. There was an instant when no one breathed, for they all knew what the smoke was coming from.

"The Reapers have attacked us," the Sprite said heavily.

----------


	26. Chapter XX: Life's Little Surprises

Chapter Twenty - Life's Little Surprises

The sun's light was only visible when the clouds of smoke shifted with the wind. The once peaceful and serene forest surrounding the last community of the Shadow Elves was now just a blackened, charred skeleton of its former beauty, the city within still smoldering. The Guild, Legolas, and Caled were standing just within the burnt gates to a wasteland that just one night ago had been green. They were all slightly out of breath from running here yet no one felt fatigue, just shock and horror. Denya, standing at the back of the group and shielded by Clad's large frame, lifted the cloth around her eyes, taking in the wasteland before them.

The Sprite that had met them outside Mount Gundabad leaned against a tree that had survived, the fragile shell of the trunk creaking under his weight. "Just after Lady Caled-Veleg escaped, the Reapers appeared," he said, his gold eyes surveying their reactions. "There was some debate about what to do."

"Debate?" Aurora whispered, her eyes staring at the scorched body of a child not three yards from her. "Debate about what?"

"Whether or not they should evacuate the city."

Heads turned so quickly the Sprite blinked in surprise. "They debated around leaving?" Caled repeated in a hoarse voice, making several of them glance at her in concern.

The Sprite averted his eyes.

Caled did not seem to be breathing. She turned back to look around them and tears began to spill down her face. "Idiot!" she suddenly screamed. "Fools! Why did not they go? Why did they stay here? "

Legolas froze, her voice echoing in his ears. His mind recalled one of the visions that Meryl the fortuneteller had shown him so long ago. It was the same...

"Several wanted to stay because they feared for--for your safety," the Sprite said at length, still not looking at her. "They wanted to remain in case you returned."

Caled's hand clenched tighter into fists, nails biting into her skin. "Fools," she whispered. "Damned fools."

"Regardless," Auron spoke, "this tells us that the Reapers know far more than they're letting on."

The Sprite raised a thin black eyebrow. "And how did you come to this conclusion, sir?"

"They were waiting for us in the Unmanned Fortress, their supposed leader had a message for us--one specifically for Caled--they were very routine in how they attacked us, as if they had been given instructions on how we would react to them. It has been scarcely six hours since Caled met back up with us and yet the Reapers were able to destroy a community of this vast size, which means that they were very well aware of how this city functioned and had prior plans at how to destroy it, which they have succeeded in." Auron ticked off each point on his fingers, casually glancing around now and then as if to refresh his thoughts.

The Sprite smirked. "Forgive my doubting, sir."

"And ours as well."

Everyone jumped at the voice. Kurra stood not ten feet away, looking a bit bruised and worn but otherwise in good health. Behind her there was an apparent trapdoor leading into the ground. Several Shadow Elves were beginning to hesitantly climb out of it, looking around in horror. Kurra's father was one of the last, closely followed by Rynno. The captain looked far worse off than any of the others. His right arm was in a sling and his head was bandaged and bloodied, yet he looked relieved at the sight of them all.

The Sprite bowed towards Kurra and her father. His body shimmered then burst into dark flames that spiraled into Kurra's raised palm. When it all was absorbed, she closed her fist and tentatively looked at the Guild and Legolas. She seemed unable to look at Caled directly.

"We---we were caught unaware," Kurra said. "We barely had time to raise the alarm before they swarmed us. There was no way we could save everyone, but we tried. If we---"

"---Had not had a good portion of your Fire-Guard outside the city, we might have had a chance," her father cut in harshly. Kurra winced, but said nothing. "I am deeply sorry for what my daughter has done," he said to them. "She shall be reprimanded."

"It should not be to severe," Tan said offhandedly, assisting a woman with a broken leg onto his cloak he had laid out for her to sit on. "Even if you had any Guard twice the size it is it would not have been enough. They would have been inadequate to deal with an onslaught such as this. Besides, the Reapers seem to have a habit of making sure they get the job done," he added, giving the man a hard look that made the Shadow Elf pale.

"No doubt they already know that some of you survived," Anex stated, giving a half-shrug as several Shadow Elves looked at him in terror. "They will be back."

"Then---then what should we do?" Kurra's father stammered.

"Run," Denya grunted from her place on the ground. "Reapers are ruthless. They will most certainly be back to finish what they started. But you might get lucky: you might not be their topmost priority now." She smirked as a few put their heads together and whispered to each other in confusion, a few pointing at her blindfold in question. She felt around beside her before her hands bumped against her bag. She opened it and pulled out a large unmarked bottle. She took a long gulp of the clear liquid, let out a satisfied sigh, and then said, pointing in the general direction of Caled, "She's caught the attention of the Reaper's master." Denya's smirk took on a slightly sinister tone. "Whoever it is, they'll be focusing on her for while," she chuckled darkly, turning back to her drink.

---

The better half of the day was spent in the forest wasteland. Aurora double then triple checked anyone for injuries, making sure to question them about what kind of Reaper had attacked them. Auron and Denya discussed various things with Kurra, her father, and Rynno about what the Shadow Elves should do in case they were found by the Reapers again. Denya left with them several weapons she stated would be quite useful in the event that they had to fight. Once they did all they could, the Shadow Elves saw them off, several with a tearful goodbye to Caled.

Caled had become very quiet and impassive since leaving the Shadow Elves. No one, not even Mornie---who was certain to have tried talking to her with his mind---had gotten more than a nod from her. Her distant behavior worried everyone, but none ventured to discuss it.

They began their way back down the path they had come, taking it with a bit more care than the first time. Though no one said it, their destination was clear: Caled and Legolas would return to Rivendell to report their findings to Lord Elrond and the Guild would accompany them to Rivendell where they would part company.

For a fortnight they traveled. The tension within the group began to ease, carefree conversation becoming the norm. Their practice sessions became routine once again, Caled choosing to sit out. Auron did not comment, nor did he call her out.

Denya seemed to throw herself into the practice sessions, often asking Auron for more time. While her few injuries healed quickly, her eyes remained behind the blindfold. Whenever Aurora asked to examine her, Denya would sharply decline. She seemed to avoid any opportunity of healing whatever her ailment was.

"Again!" Denya shouted.

Legolas scrambled to get upright, flipping backwards only seconds before a dagger would have struck his stomach. He twisted his arm behind his back, deflecting another dagger with his long knife in time. Denya deftly caught it though blindfolded and gritted her teeth.

"Again!" she hissed, taking a slow, measured step to the side

Legolas hesitated briefly, then knocked one of her daggers away with his long knife by a flick of his wrist.

From his place off to the side, Auron sat watching them with a slight frown on his face. Aurora was doing the last of the clean up after the meal. Tan and Dias were playing a dice game, Darin watching on in amusement. Caled was sitting near Aurora, absently stroking a sleeping Mornie while watching the session. Anex and Rali were seated in their chosen resting spots. Clad was sitting on the other side of the area designated for the practice session, hood ever present and hiding his point of gaze.

The sound of wood splintering pierced the air. Everyone looked up to see Legolas gaping in shock at his long knife, now imbedded in a tree two yards away where Denya had thrown it. There was a blur of movement then the loose dirt on the ground was kicked up, blocking the actions taking place. There was a gasp, then a grunt as two bodies collided.

The dust cleared. Denya had pinned Legolas to the ground by straddling his chest, pinning his arms with her legs. Legolas grunted with effort but could move her. She gave him a grin, saying in a teasing tone, "Better, but not quite."

Legolas resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You have improved," Auron commented, "you were able to dodge the dagger she threw even though you were in a physically difficult position. I do believe this is a testament at how well you've developed, Legolas."

Legolas shrugged as best he could under Denya's weight.

Auron continued on, but Legolas did not hear what he said. A strange whisper was filling his ears, one he could not shut out. It was faint but he could hear it. It was soft.

Soft...and sinister.

**/_kill...them_...**

Above him, Denya stiffened.

**/..._kill them...all_...**

With a hard shake of his head, Legolas silenced the voice. But that became his least worry.

He felt a rough jerk from the top of his head as he heard Auron shouting "Denya! Stop!"

Denya was frozen in her place, one hand grasping Legolas' head and pulling it to the side, exposing his neck while the other held her dagger in the air, poised to bring it across his throat. She was breathing heavily, a small growl with in intake of breath. Her body language spoke her intent: if Auron had not shouted, she would have driven the dagger down.

Auron and Anex were on their feet, hands poised over their sword hilt and eyes set on Denya. Dias, Darin, Rali, Tan and Aurora all stared at the scene, horrified and confused at why. Caled was rigid, eyes wide. Mornie looked up at her quickly, surprise on his cat face.

"Denya," Auron said in a calm voice. "Get off him."

Denya did nothing. If anything, her grip on Legolas' head tightened.

"Denya," Auron said again, taking a small step towards her.

Denya's ears perked and her jerked her arm back, ready to plunge forward.

Clad suddenly appeared in front of them, catching Denya's hand with the dagger before it could do damage and grasping her other in an iron grip. Ever so slowly, he turned her wrist until she was forced to release Legolas' head. The Half-Berserker then hefted Denya off Legolas and, when she began to struggle quickly wrapped his arms around her, restraining her against his broad chest.

Denya was fighting for all she was worth, kicking and hitting Clad as best she could. "Let go!" she roared. "Let me go!"

Clad spoke, but it was words none of the others understood. It was rough and guttural, his native tongue. Denya seemed to understand him for she stopped struggling long enough to reply. "I felt it, Clad," she said softly, her hand gripping the arm he had around her waist tightly. "There was one here." As if sensing the others exchange glances, she spoke louder, "I didn't meant to attack you, Leafy. Honest. This stupid...stupid---" she made a vague motion to her blindfold, "---I forgot about it. I forgot we were practicing. I...sorry," she mumbled.

"What was it you felt?" Legolas asked, wishing to know what had caused her to nearly obstruct his breathing passage with half a foot of steel.

Denya opened and closed her mouth several times, each time ending in a frown. She finally said, "Too complicated." With a sigh, she relaxed, her head falling onto Clad's chest. "Too freaking complicated."

---

Aurora checked to make sure no one was following then quietly made her way to Denya's lookout point. It had been four days since that practice session, and Denya had finally removed her blindfold earlier that day. Aurora had checked her over and announced her healthy yet Denya waved off the statement with a small smile, saying there had been nothing to worry about. Aurora, however, had seen the meaningful glance Denya had thrown Anex as well as the Avari's answering silence. She shook her head, reddish-blonde hair swirling around her in the light breeze. Some times she wanted to just take Denya by the shoulders and give her a hard shake. Maybe that would rattle her brain enough to make it work the right way.

"What do you want?"

Aurora giggled at the remark, leaning back in order to look up into the tree's branches to see Denya's face. "Just making sure you're still here," she said, winking.

Denya's humped reply sounded as Aurora climbed the tree to sit one limb over from her. For a while, neither said anything. The only sound came from the breeze and Denya's ferret as it scuttled along the branch she was on, periodically scratching at her boot.

Aurora withheld a sigh, looking up at the moon. How could she approach the subject? She knew both from experience and from her earlier examination, that nothing had been wrong with Denya's eyes. Not as far as her vision being impaired. She had been keeping the blindfold on in order to hide them. There could have been only one reason for that.

Aurora drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them. Denya had never hidden her eyes when they glowed. If anything, she was proud because it was a sign of her mother's bloodline. It was proof of who she was. Denya had never shied away from something that told others who she was. So...why had she blindfolded herself for so long?

The swish of liquid on glass and a satisfied exhale caught Aurora's attention. Denya twirled a bottle in one hand, gazing off into the distance absently. Aurora stared at the dark bottle, eyes widening a bit. "What is that?" she blurted.

Denya blinked, looking between her and the bottle. Then, she burst into laughter.

"Answer the question," Aurora said, frowning.

"It---It---It's just water, Aurora!" Denya managed to say through gasps for breath. "What did you think it was?"

Aurora sputtered, "Well, I just thought---I mean---it was---"

Denya broke into new peals of laughter at the expression on her face. Once she finally calmed down, Denya tossed Aurora the bottle, who sniffed it suspiciously. "Satisfied?" Denya said when Aurora tossed it back.

Aurora glared at her. "Look, I was worried about. For nearly a month all you've been eating or drinking is liquor---"

"That's a problem?" Denya smirked.

"---and that can't be healthy for anyone," Aurora finished, ignoring her remark.

Denya shrugged, taking another drink. She sighed deeply, raising the bottle and looking through the glass to the moon. The glass was dark enough to reflect back her image. She frowned slightly. The blue flecks in her eyes seemed more pronounced now than they ever had been; she could even make out several news flecks scattered across the whites of her eyes. "It was pretty stupid, huh?" she whispered.

"Does an Orc stink?"

Denya chuckled, lowering the bottle. She felt Aurora's gaze on her yet did not look over as she said, "Nearly four thousand years of life and I still have the emotional control of a child."

Aurora shrugged. "No one's perfect."

"But at least people don't let their minds run amuck by thinking they know everything."

Aurora winced at the bitterness in her friend's voice. "You want to talk about it?" she said gently.

Denya shook her head. "I'm fine. If this is any indicator," she added with a motion to her eyes.

"You sure?"

"I'm fine."

Denya's tone was enough to tell Aurora that the conversation was over. Aurora sat still for some time, in case Denya said anything else, then made her way down the tree and back to the campsite.

Denya followed her progress, gaze lingering on the form she had come to memorize sitting around the fire. She stared at him, the familiar questions running through her mind. When she did look away, it was to focus on the one sitting beside him, silently stroking a black ball of fluff in her lap. Denya was able to see him look over the other, saying something that was replied to with a nod.

A word echoed in Denya's ears.

_Coramin_...

Denya's eyes narrowed in resolution.

---

The forest seemed darker than it normally did to Legolas. He dismissed it as nothing, shouldering his bow and keeping his eyes and ears trained for sounds of an animal to give itself away. It was his turn to hunt that night and so far he had not gotten even the tiniest hint of any game about to cross path.

Legolas had just about given up and started in a different direction when he saw it. A large buck, big enough to feed everyone for several days, was grazing just yards away. Silently, Legolas gripped his bow and loaded an arrow. As he raised it to take aim, the buck raised his head, ears flicking back and forth, then trotted further into the forest.

Legolas bit back a curse and followed the buck. It was too good of a kill to pass up. Deeper and deeper he went, the animal flitting into his vision before disappearing again. Then he saw it standing in a clearing, head bowed to its shoulder level. Legolas frowned, but raised his bow just the same and took careful aim.

It was then that the space in front of the buck shimmered before a figure came into view. The figure was petting the buck's head and neck, murmuring soft words to it. The buck rubbed its head against the figure's own before cantering off into the forest. The figure turned and looked at Legolas, who blinked in surprise. It was Denya. She stood in a long light blue cloak he had not seen her wear before, gazing at him with a heavy expression in her eyes.

Denya raised a hand out to him, palm up. She softly said, "Come," and curled her fingers into her palm.

Legolas felt as if someone had taken a fistful of his shirt and pulled. He lost his grip on his bow and arrow and they clattered to the ground as he was half-dragged half-led to where Denya stood.

"Evening, Leafy," Denya said, laughing softly when he stumbled as the invisible fist released him.

"Denya, what are you doing here?" Legolas said, confused. When he had left the campsite she had been there, teasing Tan along with Dias about his latest attempt at pick pocketing. She had given no indication that would was going to go out into the forest. Why was she here?

Denya smiled. Raising her left hand she whispered something. Three bracelets glowed before evaporating into mist, spreading out around the clearing. He grimaced, the odor the mist had was pungent and made his eyes water.

"I was waiting for you," Denya said slowly.

Legolas shifted. The way she was looking at him was making him uncomfortable. He sniffed shortly, the smell in the air once again annoying him.

"I've been thinking," Denya said, titling her head to the side. "You never did answer my question."

"What question?" Legolas asked, deciding to humor her. He winced, his head feeling a bit fuzzy.

"The one I asked after we introduced ourselves as the Guild," Denya replied. "I'm sure you remember it. I asked if you were married, and if not, if you had anyone in mind."

Legolas laughed shortly, shaking his head. "I don't believe this is the time or place--"

"But it is," Denya cut in, stepping closer to him.

Legolas took a step back, intending to go back to the campsite. He did not like where this encounter was leading. When he started to turn, his vision swam. He faltered, catching his footing before he fell.

"There's no running away, Legolas," Denya said, a light chuckle in her voice. "Do you think I would let you have a chance to leave? I want my answer, Legolas: is there someone you have your eye on?"

Legolas frowned at her. "Why does it concern you so much?"

Denya blinked. "I would have thought that would be obvious." She leaned in close to him, her breath tickling his ear. "I have my eye on you," she whispered.

Legolas pushed her away. "Denya, I won't say it again. This isn't the time or place." He tried to turn away again but this time a feeling of disorientation hit him so hard he nearly retched. He felt Denya's hand pushing him down to his knees. He allowed it, being closer to the ground helped him regain some of his sense of balance, but waved her away.

He heard her '_tsk_' somewhere above him. "It's not a good idea to lie, Legolas. You'll get sick if you make a habit of it."

Legolas scowled at her. "What did you do?" he said accusingly.

"Made sure I would get my answer," Denya said firmly. "You know, it's only hurting yourself. I know you do have someone in mind. Make it easier on yourself and tell me. Then I'll let you go back."

Legolas clamped his jaw shut.

Denya clucked her tongue. "Not gonna tell?" She chuckled. "That's all right, I think I can guess who it is. Hmm. Let me think," she made a show of tapping her chin. "Who could it be? I know it isn't Aurora. You're not the kind of guy to take a girl who's already been claimed. And the way you keep denying this tell me it isn't me." She shook her head, giving an exaggerated sigh. "So, who could it be?" She began to pace around him with slow steps. "Who could possibly be the recipient of your affection, secret as it is? Who could it be that has always been watched over by you? Who could you have trusted so much that you would be willing to give them your heart?" As she spoke, her voice became cold as ice. She stopped in front of him, looking him in the eye.

"Do you really expect her to open up to you?" Denya whispered. "Do you actually think she'll want to have any sort of relationship further than what you already have? Do you?"

Legolas looked away from her.

"Do you believe you'll be able to win her favor?" Denya scoffed, throwing her hands up. "That's a laugh! Yet maybe you will. Who knows? Things happen. But..." she trailed off, making sure he was paying attention before continuing, "you do know you could never have all of her." She smiled at his confused look. A smile that spoke volumes. "You're an Elf, Legolas. She won't let you touch her. You would never be able to claim her as your own."

Through the haze his head was in, Legolas saw her hands reach up to the clasp holding her cloak shut. A few deft twists and Denya opened the cloak. Legolas' eyes widened when he saw she had nothing on underneath.

"Would she ever be able to offer this?" Denya whispered, the smile still playing on her lips. "I'm willing and able, Legolas. All you have to do is say the word and I'm yours. You won't be able to have this from Caled."

Silence hung in the air, Denya with her heated gaze on the Elf at her feet and Legolas staring into her gaze and all it promised. Tense second after second ticked by and neither moved.

Then, slowly, Legolas rose to his feet.

His hands reached out and Denya held her breath.

His fingers brushed her cloak.

His eyes closed as he took a deep breath.

"I can't."

Legolas reattached her cloak to its fastenings, then gently gripped her shoulders. He met her eyes and said, "I love Caled. Not just her body, but everything she is. I will not go as far to say that I do not care if she never returns my feelings, but I will not pressure her to do so. I do care for you, Denya, but not as I do for her." He reached up and cupped her cheek. "I never will." He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Denya smiled though tears brimmed her eyes. "I know," she admitted. "I know you won't. I just had to know if you were still willing to love her. She needs you, even if she won't admit it. She needs your love more than I ever will."

Legolas chuckled, embracing the blue-haired Elf. "So, you were testing me?" he said lightly.

Denya laughed, hiding her face in his shirt. "Yeah. Valor, I'm almost embarrassed!"

"Almost?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, it's not like you haven't seen me naked before," she pointed out, stepping out of his embrace.

"It was an accident," Legolas said, rolling his eyes.

"So you say," Denya said, snapping her fingers. The three bracelets reappeared on her arm. "I'll head back now. There should be some deer up that way," she said, pointing a ways to their left.

Legolas nodded, going to retrieve his bow and arrows.

"Just so you know," Denya called after him, "if anyone can help her, I hope its you."

Legolas smiled. "So do I."

---

After another six days of travel, they began to grow wary. There had been no sign of Reaper or Orc. The quiet that followed them did more to unnerve them than any attack could. In fact, several expressed their wish that they were attacked because that might give them some notion of what the Reapers were planning.

"It's almost as if they want us to think we'll forget them," Anex said.

"Catch us off guard?" Aurora suggested.

"They should know by now that we're never off guard," Rali pointed out.

"True."

"Still, you've got to admit, this is a bit boring," Darin grumbled.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth that Clad and Denya stopped, heads jerking to look around them. "You got your wish," Denya said grimly, black and silver daggers appearing in hand.

"Where?" Auron said, cautiously looking around as he took hold of his sword.

"Ahead," Clad answered, drawing his sword.

"They aren't advancing," Deny said with a frown. "Why aren't they advancing?"

"Let's go see," Dias said.

They positioned themselves in a form that was by now familiar: Auron in the lead, flanked by Denya and Tan on the left with Anex and Rali on the right, Legolas and Aurora behind Auron, Darin behind them, Dias and Caled behind him, and Clad bringing up the rear.

They moved slowly in case there were any Reapers hidden in the trees that would attack from above when they passed. It seemed hours before they heard it: a hiss of whispers and laughter. The air around them shifted before a host of Reapers appeared. Directly in front, facing the Guild, Legolas, and Caled, were the Reaper Elite.

"Isn't this a familiar sight?" the lead Reaper Elite chortled. Ke'Dab motioned around itself, the other Elite snickering. "I wonder who will come out of it this time?" the red-eyed Reaper purred.

"No one can guess," said the sea green Elite, nodding his head towards Denya.

"Enough," said one with gray coloring. "Go!" it ordered, snapping an arm out at the group before them.

The Reapers obeyed. Like a dark wave they moved upon the Guild, Legolas, and Caled. They were forced to separate their positioning yet kept each other within sight. The Reapers hissed and laughed, even if they were cut down their faces still retained a twisted smirk. The Elite hung back, watching with interest yet making no move.

Aurora had used all of her arrows, already half-way through her reserve supply, when she took fired and the arrow that not only struck its target, it went through and connected with one of the Reaper Elite in its torso. She gasped, certain she had spurred it to retaliate.

The Elite looked curiously at the protruding arrow; pink eyes alit with humor. Then, it broke off the shaft and the remaining arrow sunk into the wound, the dark blue skin healing over it without a mark.

Aurora stared in amazement at what had happened. She was so dumbfounded she did not see the other Reaper advancing on her.

Caled, however, saw. Hefting a now dead Reaper off her dagger, she spun, throwing the weapon. She held her breath. The dagger's flight was true...

/**_THUNK_**\

It sunk into the hilt in the back of the Reaper's head. Aurora jumped, startled out of her shock. She looked at Caled, who gave a one armed shrug. She smiled in thanks.

Then Aurora's face paled as she saw the large, blue eyed Reaper raising behind Caled.

"Caled!" Denya yelled, seeing the Reaper as well but being too far away to do anything. Caled was in her line of fire, there was no way she could get a clear shot and there was no time to change positions.

Caled snapped around, staring at the opposing creature. Mornie jumped in front of her, snarling in his wolf form, but to no avail. The Reaper backhanded him so hard there was an audible '_snap_' as some bone broke when he fell to the ground, whimpering. The Reaper looked at Caled, grinned, then backhanded her as well to the opposite side.

"Shit!" Denya swore, trying to catch Caled as she sailed by. The Reaper she had been facing reached up from its place on the ground and grabbed her foot, pulling her back down before she could reach Caled. Denya growled, slashing off the offending appendage before looking to see where Caled had landed. Her stomach fell.

Caled had been thrown into the waiting arms of Ke'Dab.

"Oh, no," Denya whispered.

"Well, well," Ke'Dab smirked. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise?"

Caled glared at the Reaper Elite, struggling against its surprisingly strong hold on her.

"So feisty!" another of the Elite said.

"We'll change that," said the sea green one. It grinned maliciously, grasping her by the hair as Ke'Dab released her. It raised her effortlessly off the ground until they were eye to eye. "You'll soon learn to obey. Just like the old days."

Caled's eyes widened.

"Ah, I see you remember them," the Elite said, causing the others to snicker. "I'm sure you'll be broken much, _much_ quicker this time around."

Caled snarled then spat in the Reaper's face.

A low rumble came from the Reaper Elite. "I think we'll start breaking you in now!" it shouted, tossing Caled roughly to the ground. The back of her head struck a prominent three root, causing her to wince and curl in on herself reflexively. The sea green Reaper Elite strode over to where she lay, kicking her hard in the stomach. She tumbled to the ground, rolling before she came to a stop. Her head was bleeding now and she struggled against the urge to throw up.

"You!" she heard the Reaper Elite shout. "See to her now!"

Caled managed to look up. A Reaper was bounding towards her, easily avoiding the others as they tried to stop it. The Reaper skidded to a stop just before reaching her. It cracked its knuckles then splayed its fingers out. Slowly, its fingers began to extend, lengthening to sharp claws. It crouched, readying to pounce on her.

Caled scrambled to get out of the way but her head injury was hindering her from moving too fast. She was trapped between the Reaper and a boulder. She tensed, the Reaper leapt. She shut her eyes tight, bracing herself.

It did not come.

Cautiously, Caled opened her eyes, then gasped.

Legolas stood between her and the Reaper. His dagger parried with one of its clawed hands. But the other claws---

Caled felt her heart leap into her throat as her gaze slid down to see the crimson spattering on the ground below the Elf, slowly growing larger.

Legolas spared a glance back at her. "Are you all right?" he grunted, wincing.

The Reaper hissed in anger at missing its target. It knocked his dagger aside then pulled its other hand back.

Legolas coughed, spitting more blood onto the ground. The Reapers claws had cut through his abdomen fairly deep. He was already becoming lightheaded.

A rustle of movement was his only warning before the Reaper slashed its claws again, ripping into his chest. Legolas toppled backwards.

Caled caught Legolas as he fell. She was shaking, eyes wide at the sight of his wounds. "Elf?" she said softly, voice trembling with tears.

Legolas managed a half smile before he started to cough again.

"Why?" Caled said, taking a fistful of her sleeve and wiping the blood off his face gently. "Why did you do that?"

She felt him shrug. "I must admit," Legolas said, his eyes slipping between focus, "it was good...to hear your voice...one more time..."

"Elf?" Caled gasped, feeling him going limp in her arms.

Legolas' blue eyes slid back into his head, yet the smile was still on his face.

Caled was trembling, staring at the still form in her arms. "Elf?" she whispered. She shook him. No response. Her placed her hand over his heart, fingers sliding on the blood. It was still beating, yet it was slowing down with each beat. "No! Don't! Don't leave!" she sobbed.

A crunch of a footstep made her look up. The blue eyed Reaper was there, raising his hand to strike.

Caled ducked her head down and buried it in Legolas' chest, screaming, "NO!"

The world turned white.

----------

A. N. -- For those a bit miffed at the scene between Denya and Legolas, let me state this: Denya is not a whore nor is she really that casual with her body. In reality she was testing Legolas (what do you think those bracelets were for?). She cares deeply for Caled and did not want to see him hurt her, intentionally or otherwise. And, if you notice from the visions Legolas had been having, this scene has been in mind for a LONG time.

Also, I received an e-mail from a reader asking why it was that Caled allowed the Guild members to call her simply 'Caled' from the beginning unlike with Legolas when he had to earn the right to do so. Well, that has to do with the fact that a) the Guild made a Pact with Gandalf, so in Caled's eyes, Gandalf considers them highly trustworthy and therefore they could call her what they wanted (Elrond was the one that suggested Legolas accompany her, though Gandalf approved, this partnership was still somewhat forced) b) the Guild wouldn't have listened to her anyway if she complained.


	27. Chpt XXI: What the Heart Longs to Hide

A. N. -- Can anyone remember there being the word 'teenager' in the trilogy? No? Okay then...Instead of teenager I'll just use children.

WARNING! This chapter contains VERY DARK elements. Though not spoken of directly, the content is clear. I have warned you.

---

Chapter Twenty One - What the Heart Longs To Hide

A convulsion went through his body, forcing him to cough. He gasped for breath, arms flailing as he shot up into a sitting position. One hand grasped the side of the rock wall beside him, steadying his balance, and the other slapped his chest, groping for the wounds that he remembered vividly. All his hand touched was the fabric of his shirt, the skin underneath whole and unmarred.

Legolas cautiously gazed around him, knowing that something very strange had happened. He was no longer in the forested outdoors but in what appeared to be a dungeon cell. The cell was shaped as if someone had hastily scooped it out of the stone in the ground; jagged edges scattered along the walls and floor. The opening of the cell stretched out for twenty feet, crude but strong iron bars keeping the occupants in. Chains littered the area, some in use, some broken, some blood stained.

Those in the cell did not look at him. They were whispering to each other, some shaking with sobs as they spoke. A few he noticed were staring blankly in front of them, the rest avoiding them carefully.

Legolas blinked, studying everyone as he stood. Every one of the prisoners in the cell was young, just children. What kind of dungeon was this?

Another thing: what had happened to the others? Where were they? Where had all the Reapers vanished?

Was Caled all right?

The sound of heavy footsteps reached his ears. The children all looked up, those closest to the bars scrambling backwards to get away. An Orc descended the stairway leading into the dungeon. Under one arm it carried a large bundle of ragged cloth. It sneered at the children in the cell, flipping through several keys on a ring before finding one it wanted. It unlocked the cell door and threw the bundle in before shutting it again. When the bundle hit the ground it moaned weakly.

"Theo!"

A blur ran past Legolas and knelt beside the bundle the Orc had thrown in. It was a small girl yet dirt and dried blood obscured her face. "Theo!" she whispered, shaking the bundle. "Theo!"

The bundle groaned again. It slowly straightened, revealing the grimacing face of a young man. He was pale underneath the filth smeared across his face. He sat up; gingerly sitting against the wall the girl had pulled him to. He winced when the girl touched his arm.

The girl pulled her hand back in case he was hurt. She looked up at him, biting her lip.

Theo smiled weakly. He reached out and gathered her into his arms, setting her against his chest. Tucking her head under his chin, he sighed heavily. "Next time they call for me don't attack the Orc," he told her.

"But---" the girl started.

"Don't attack," Theo repeated.

The girl did not reply, frowning. She ran a hand up and down the torn cloth of his shirt. A sniffle escaped her. "I miss Seena," she said quietly. A few of the others closer to them raised their heads, gazing at Theo in sadness and pity.

"We all do," Theo said, voice breaking slightly.

"I wanna go back."

"Shut your mouth!" a voice towards the back of the cell shouted. Several of the children jumped at the sound; others threw whatever they could find at the speaker, hissing "They'll hear you!"

Theo's eyes flashed in the dim light; Legolas saw that they were golden in color. The girl in his arms curled against him, hiding her head. "Leave her alone, Jaycon," Theo said.

"Oh, fine then," Jaycon sneered around at the other children. He was an older one, much closer to Theo's age. A gash ran down his jaw close to his ear to his neck, a blackened bandaged scarcely doing its job at covering it. "Sure, I'll leave her alone," Jaycon continued. "That way the next time she acts up it'll be taken out of your hide instead of mine! Like today!"

There were gasps, whispers, and stares within the cell. Theo did not blink. The girl was taking deep yet shaking breaths.

Jaycon cursed, kicking the wall closest to him. He ran his hand through his green hair, pacing. "We're dealing with Orcs, Theo. Orcs! They don't think like we do! We have to play their games or we will die!"

"I'd welcome death," Theo said calmly. "I would walk into its arms if not for her," he said, tightening his arm around the girl in his lap.

Jaycon looked down at the girl, a pained expression coming over his face. "How much longer will they ignore her, Theo?" he said quietly. "Not long," he said when Theo did not.

Theo looked away.

Silence blanketed the cell. Jaycon sat down with a sigh, a young woman gently laying a hand on his shoulder. He covered her hand with his, gripping it tightly.

"She is only concerned for her brother," the young woman said to Jaycon softly.

"I know, Cali," Jaycon grunted. "I know."

Legolas did not know what to make of this situation. None of the children in the cell had glanced his way even once. Now he was under the impression that they could not see him. It was unnerving, but not so much as the names they had called each other.

_Theo. Seena. Jaycon. Cali._

He had heard those names before. Where?

The girl in Theo's arm yawned, adjusting her position to make both of them more comfortable. When she did, her eyes flickered upward and watched Jaycon and Cali, looking past Legolas.

_Theo. Seena. Jaycon. Cali._

A feeling like ice shot through Legolas' stomach, radiating to his limbs.

The girl's eyes were bright red.

_Theo. Seena. Jaycon. Cali._

"Caled?"

The red eyed girl did not respond to his whisper. She continued watching the other two, eyes growing heavy.

Theo gently rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles. He hummed softly, head leaned back to the rock wall and eyes closed. When the young Caled shook her head, Theo looked down in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I don't wanna sleep," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "Every time I sleep, I see it. I don't wanna see it anymore."

"What do you see, Caled?" Theo asked.

"Seena," Caled whispered. "I see Seena. I see it again, Theo. I don't want to anymore," she whimpered, clinging to his arm.

A boy a bit older than Caled scooted closer to them. He smiled at Caled and raised his hand, touching her forehead with two fingers. "Think of our happy place, Caled," he said. The points of his fingers glowed softly. "It's just after the beginning of summer, when the water is the perfect mix of warm and cool...you've won the breath holding contest yet again...Jaycon's sister is asleep in your lap...we're singing, singing all sorts of songs...the sun's beginning to rise...the colors pouring over the crystal clear surface..."

As the boy spoke, Caled's eyes drooped lower and lower until they closed.

"Thank you," Theo said, the boy drawing his hand away.

The boy chuckled though it held no mirth. "Someone should have peaceful dreams," he said, running a soft hand through Caled's sandy-blonde hair. His green eyes shifted to a burning red, narrowing. "It's so unfair...she shouldn't have to be put through this. She's far too young."

"She's the only one left," said a girl from her place on the wall. She motioned with one of her chained hands towards the cell door. "They've taken all the others who haven't developed to the full extent."

"The only reason she's still here is they couldn't sell her off to the buyer," Theo said, voice hardening in anger. "Said they had enough and couldn't afford another one."

"Maybe they're better off now," a small voice within the gloom suggested, without much conviction.

The boy shook his head sadly, eyes tracing Caled's face. "Theo? What Jaycon said was true: they won't ignore her for much longer."

Theo did not respond.

Another convulsion struck Legolas, bringing up another coughing fit. He groped for something to hold onto, back arching with each cough. His hand hit smooth wood. Once the fit had passed, he looked around. He was in another room. This room was large, one wall lined with melting pots and kilns and the opposite with stacks of armor and weapons. The children he had seen were there, working at the kilns and sharpening or shaping various items. All were worn and tired yet they worked hard, eyes set on their task. They did not flinch as the Orcs that patrolled the makeshift aisles passed them or stopped to growl something at them.

A flash of sandy-blonde hair caught his eye. Caled stood next to the table he was leaning on, carefully stacking helmets on top of each other. She was older now, no longer a child but not yet an adult. She balanced the helmets and slowly made her way to where the finished ones were kept.

A couple of Orcs glanced her way when she passed, smirking at each other in silent conversation. One nodded. The other lashed out with his whip, striking Caled's back.

Caled gasped, the blow knocking her to the ground. She turned, glaring at the one with the whip. It glared back, snarling an order. She snapped an reply in Morgul, standing and beginning to collect the helmets. Another crack of the whip swept across her arm. She yelped, jumping back. She snapped something again, but this time her fear was showing through.

Those working around the scene kept their heads down, continuing in their work.

The Orc with the whip began to advance on Caled, cocking his head to the side and saying something, a question.

Caled's face paled. A few of the others looked up in alarm. Another Orc shouted an order and they hastily went back to work.

Her head jerking around, Caled looked for an escape route. She made a dive for the space between the stacks of shields and swords. The Orc laughed, whip snaking around her leg. It pulled, dragging her to him. Caled screamed in a combination of Morgul and Westron, hands clawing at anything to pull herself right.

Near the far end of the room, Theo was on his feet, hurdling over several tables and scattering their contents. Nearer, Jaycon was also jumping over a stack of armor. Both were yelling, too quickly for anyone to understand what was being said. Orcs that were not laughing at Caled's attempt of escape cut off Theo and Jaycon, knocking them down.

Caled growled, kicking at the Orc with her free leg. It grinned, catching her foot easily. It said something to the other Orcs. Two who were restraining a still struggling Theo howled with laughter. They hoisted him up, walking a short distance until he was closer to Caled. They forced him onto his knees, holding his harms out to the sides. Theo hissed something low in his throat at the Orc inhibiting his sister's movements. A third Orc kicked him in the back, barking an order over to the Orc with the whip and grabbing Theo's head to keep his eyes on Caled.

The Orc nodded, turning to Caled. Caled screeched sharply, "NO! NO! Valor, please no!"

At the name of the Valor, the Orcs recoiled. She was backhanded hard.

At his place, Legolas watched in horror as two Orcs came with rope and began tying her arms above her head, wrapping them around scraps of metal driven into the ground. His gut twisted in fear. In the back of his mind, he had a suspicion of what the Orc was planning to do yet he refused to think that. It was far too revolting to think of. His fear solidified as the Orc drove another scrap of metal into the ground and wrapped his whip around it, anchoring Caled's leg and rendering her immobile.

Theo screamed, fighting against the Orcs holding him. He was kicked again.

Jaycon swore darkly. He was temporarily illuminated by fire yet it was cut off when an Orc struck the back of his head, knocking him out.

Caled was sobbing; pleading to be let go. The Orc paid her no heed as it retrieved a crude sword from the nearby table. It grabbed the front of her tunic, pulling it up along with her as much as the bonds would allow. It snorted with laughter, saying something in its foul language.

Caled shook her head, her words tumbling over each other. The Orc slid the sword under the tunic, carefully resting the cloth over it. Caled went rigid with fear. The Orc released her tunic.

Legolas swiftly turned around, not wanting to see what was about to happen. He heard the tunic being torn. Theo screamed Caled's name, his tears evident in his voice. Several of the other children were openly crying yet could not do anything to help Caled.

The Elf covered his ears as more clothing was torn and Caled cried in terror. He shut his eyes tightly even though he was not facing the scene. He could still make Caled's voice, pleading for it to stop. She was growing hoarser with each scream. Theo's own begging could be heard though they were quickly silenced.

For far too long it continued. Eternity passed before the Orcs ordered the children out of the room and back to the dungeon. Caled had grown quiet.

Slowly, fearing with he would see, Legolas turned as the children filed past. Caled was huddled on the ground, holding the scraps of her clothes onto her body. Her ankle was bloodied, rubbed raw where the whip had been. Theo was shoved to her and ordered. With shaking hands, Theo touched Caled's shoulder. She winced away, whimpering. Theo ignored her protests and picked her up, carrying her back to the dungeon.

As they past Legolas saw Caled's face, covered in tears. It broke his heart to see the shame and humiliation there.

Again, a convulsion overcame him. It was a smaller one this time yet when he pulled his hand away from his mouth he saw it was flecked with blood.

As with the last time, he was yet again in a different place. He was outside, the black rocks and molten lava pools covering the area enough of a clue as to his location. Mordor.

Voices caught his ear. He searched until he saw a form dart over a hill just in front of him. He followed it. From behind he heard the sounds of Orcs running in his direction. When he crested the hill, he saw Caled, Theo and the boy that had lulled the youngest vision of Caled asleep. They all were older yet again but ragged, thinner than he had seen them so far, and scared. They were running, glancing behind them every now and then.

A sudden shout cause them to skid to a halt. They turned. The band of Orcs chasing them had crossed the hill. One was shouting to them. In its grip it had Cali. She was badly beaten, her face as swollen as it was bruised. The Orc jerked her, shouting something to the three. It pulled a curved dagger from its belt and place the tip at Cali's neck. Slowly it pushed the blade in, Cali wincing yet refusing to cry out.

Caled threw a worried glance to Theo, whose jaw was clenched tightly, eyes never straying from Cali. "They'll kill her?" Caled whispered. "Would they really?"

The boy as well looked at Theo in concern. "But she's the strongest empath remaining. He'll need her if he still wants---"

"They've already killed Jaycon," Theo snapped. "He was the strongest with fire attributes, Denni. They only care if they have at least one of us."

"But Cali---" Caled protested.

"Keep running!" Cali suddenly shouted. "Don't worry about me! Let them kill me! Just run! RUN!"

"We won't abandon you, Cali!" Caled shouted back. Before the other two could stop her, she ran back towards the Orcs.

"Caled! No!" Denni shouted, chasing after her.

The Orc holding Cali sneered. As Caled and Denni reached them, the Orcs grabbed them, tying their hands behind their back with a length of rough rope. Then Cali was thrown against Caled, who fell to her knees from the sudden clash. The Orc bellowed an order and the rest descended on Theo.

Theo rushed the onslaught, grabbing a sword from the first Orc to reach him. He cut through several, making his way to where the other three were. Just shy of reaching them, one Orc drove its blade through his back.

Cali gasped, Denni screamed. Caled stared in shock as her brother fell.

The Orcs relinquished the attack, all laughing and jeering as Theo struggled to get up only to fall back down.

"Theo!" Caled cried, scrambling to get to his side. "Theo!"

"Don't---don't cry C--Caled," Theo gasped, his breathing growing shallow. "This---this is better..."

Caled shook her head, tears falling down her face. "No, no, no. Don't, Theo...no..."

A smile spread across Theo's face. His hand fumbled before reaching up to touch her face. "Don't forget me," he whispered.

His hand fell.

"THEO!" Caled howled. "NO! Don't leave me! Don't leave me, Theo!" She was pulled away by an Orc. She struggling pitifully, weeping.

As they were dragged away and the now familiar convulsion came, Legolas noticed a black form emerge from the rock shadows next to Theo, slowly slinking towards the prone body before he had to shut his eyes. The fits were becoming more and more painful. His hand was now slick when he pulled it away.

Legolas was once again in a room carved out of stone. This room was well lit and had several torches lining the wall. In the center of the room sat Caled. She was breathing heavily, clutching an double-headed ax that was missing a side. She was covered in black blood, the filthy substance oozing from the numerous bodies around her.

Someone chuckled behind Legolas. He turned and saw an old man standing there, watching Caled with an interested expression on his wrinkled face. The old man was clothed entirely in white and leaned against a staff in his hands. There was no doubting whom this man was: _Saruman._

Saruman said to the nervous Orc beside him, "Yes, she'll do nicely. Just what I need if this is her normal reaction to that kind of situation."

The Orc nodded, still watching Caled. She turned her blazing eyes to it at its movements, clutching the broken ax tightly. "Then you have the payment?"

"Of course," Saruman chuckled. He reached into the folds of his robes.

_Convulsion._

A circular room, Caled splayed out on the ground. She was twitching, eyes snapping around the room yet not focusing on anything. Saruman was standing over her, a twisted smile on his face. "I believe the spells should be finished by now. Can you see, Caled-Veleg?"

"R-Red," Caled mumbled, a hand flopping in front of her face as if warding off a bug. "Every thing---red."

"Good," Saruman said. He knelt beside her and reached out. His hand lightly touched her arm.

Caled let out a shrill sound somewhere between a scream of pain and a cry for help. Her back arched, limbs shuddering.

Saruman watched with a critical eye, observing every jerk, cry, and spasm. When Caled collapsed, groaning, he said, "Hmm. Excellent. The curse seems to work perfectly."

_Convulsion._

Caled sat against the wall of the same room, clutching her head. A shackle around her ankle was chaining her to the wall. She was whispering to herself.

"Messing with me. It's spells. Messing with me. That's all. Just spells."

The door creaked open. Caled looked up, afraid at who was coming through.

_Convulsion._

Again, the same room. An Orc dropped to the ground, dead. Before it stood a strange Reaper, hand slick with the Orc's blood. Its skin was black and its hair was striped with silver and black. It turned to Caled, who was limply propped up against the wall. Her eyes were dull, not moving at all.

"It's past time you left this foul room," the Reaper said in a soft voice, breaking the chain around Caled's ankle. It pulled her up gently, half supporting her weight.

The Reaper dragged Caled over to the room's only furnishing: a large ornate mirror. As they passed the Orc body, Caled hand brushed against the whip that was fastened to its belt. Her hand closed around the handle, pulling it with them.

_Convulsion. _

Pain.

Blackness.

"Legolas? Wake up."

----------


	28. Chpt XXII: Nightmare Awakening

Chapter Twenty Two - Nightmare Awakening

A knock. Footsteps. A door creaking open. More footsteps. Murmured salutations.

"Any change?"

"None, yet he's still mumbling in his sleep."

Footsteps, closer this time.

"At least he's stopped vomiting in his sleep."

A soft laugh. A cool hand touched his forehead.

"His temperature's back up. Has Aurora been by?"

"Yes. Left a while ago. Said that someone in the village was having stomach pains and wanted her to look at them. She thinks the woman might be pregnant."

"It would be good if she was." A sigh. "Too many loved ones have been lost already."

A moment of silence. "How's Caled doing?"

A stressed sigh. "No change. The wounds that transferred aren't healing. It might be due to the head injury she received."

"Ever notice how many times that girl has injured her poor head?"

A chuckle. "Yes, I'm beginning to believe she's a bit top heavy. But the other wounds healed fine. It's only the lacerations on her chest and abdomen that remain."

"Maybe it's because of the transfer that they won't heal."

"Most likely."

"Does Mornie have an idea as to why?"

"Several. Yet he seems to think the answer lies in what Caled was focusing on at the time the arch struck them."

"I thought it was the fact that he was about to die."

"It's possible, but we can't tell until she wakes up and answers the question herself."

"And there's no telling when that will be. It's already been a week."

"Healing is a slow process."

"Is she in a coma?"

Silence.

"Is she?"

"...We don't know."

---

Light shone in through the window behind the bed, dust filtering through the beams. Voices could be heard through the glass as well as beyond the door. The room was small yet well furnished.

His head ached.

Legolas sat up slowly. He squinted against the sunlight, shading his eyes as he swung his legs off the bed. Where was he? The room seemed familiar but he could not place where he had seen it before.

He frowned. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that his current location was not important. There was something else that was important, very important.

With a rush it all came back to him. Everything he had seen.

A wave of nausea struck him at the memory. Seeing a pail beside the bed, Legolas grabbed it just before his stomach emptied itself. He heaved, gasping for breath as the images flashed across his mind's eye.

The cell filled with battered children, their eyes speaking of horrors that words never could. Caled being sold to Saruman. Caled being comforted by her brother, afraid because he had been punished because of her. Caled being cursed by the wizard, screaming at just the mere touch of him. Caled and the others trying to run away only to be hunted down, her brother killed before her. Caled chained to the wall like an animal. Then Caled...and the Orc that had...

Legolas shut his eyes, willing himself not to think of that. Yet it would not stop. With another heave, the scene flew before his eyes again.

Caled, sobbing on the ground. The Orc tearing her clothes. Her hoarse screams...

---

It had been so quiet on the other side of the door---no noise whatsoever---that Dias did not notice Legolas sitting up on the bed until he was through the door, across the room, and sitting down in a spare chair. When he glanced over at the bed by pure reflex, the white haired Elf blinked, staring. "You're awake," he blurted after several seconds of silence.

Legolas nodded slightly, eyes staring at his hands in his lap. Dias noticed the frightened look in those eyes and stood up as if to cross over yet stopped, unsure if it would be wise. For while, neither spoke.

A child's laughter rang from the market outside the window. The sound---whether from the high pitched tone it had or for some other reason---caused Legolas to look up, fixing the far wall with his gaze. "Where is Caled?"

Dias flinched. "She's...she's in another room. She's...unconscious...she has been since---" He broke off, not certain of what to say.

"How long?" Legolas said quietly.

"Nearly two weeks," was the quiet reply.

Legolas breathed deeply, and then slowly let it out. He closed his eyes, raising a hand to rub his forehead, forcing his mind away from the dreams he had. "What happened after I fell?"

Dias opened his mouth, stopped, sighed, and sat back down in the chair. "In all honesty I don't know. There might not be any words to truthfully explain what happened."

"Try."

Dias thought for a moment, nodded to him, then flicked a bracelet from his wrist into his palm. Hearing his movements, Legolas opened his eyes to see what he was doing.

Dias uttered something under his breath and the bracelet flashed brightly before expanding. It formed into his staff. Dias stood, holding his staff perpendicular to the ground. He raised his other hand in front of him, making a loose fist with his forefinger limply pointing at the ground. He began to chant, staring in the direction he was pointing. Silver light flickered through his eyes, never blinking. Slowly his finger began to sway back and forth. A mist seemed to pour from his fingertip, collecting in the shape of a large globe resting on the floor. When it was fully formed, Dias stepped back and prodded the globe with his staff until it hung in the air between him and Legolas. Righting his staff, he touched the jeweled ornament at its top to his forehead. A small streak of lightning flashed in that space as he pulled his staff back. He glanced over the globe at Legolas as if to wait for his signal. Legolas nodded, and Dias drove the staff's top into the globe.

The mist began to crackle as the sky did during a storm. Streaks of lightning arched within yet did not stray from the confines of the globe. Then the mist began to circle and the lightning traced its edges as it formed a flatter shape. The mist glowed softly.

An image burst into being within the mist, distorting whenever a streak of lightning went through it. It showed Caled staring in shock at Legolas as he defended her against the Reaper, its claws dug deep into his torso. The view shifted, focusing on Aurora who looked scared.

"An arrow! Quick!" Dias' voice shouted, the sound somewhat fuzzy.

Aurora opened her mouth to reply but it turned into a shriek of horror.

The view snapped back. The Reaper had just torn through Legolas' chest, throwing him back into Caled. The image shook then started to grow closer to Caled and Legolas but a Reaper appeared in front. A quick slash of the sword later and that problem was solved. Denya swung past, running towards Caled and Legolas as a blue eyed Reaper advanced on the two. Caled looked up at the Reaper, then down at Legolas. Her face screwed up in an expression of pure sorrow as she buried her face in his blood stained chest and screamed, "NO!"

A blinding light literally erupted from Caled's huddled form. It poured like molten lava in waves from her and engulfed the Reaper. Within seconds it was reduced to a smoldering pile of ash. The Reaper Elite leapt back, avoiding the light. They barked orders at the remaining Reapers, urging them to attack her.

Caled suddenly reared her head back, screaming, "Not like Theo! Not like Theo!"

The light was pulled back to her only to be swung out again in a large sweeping arch. Whenever it struck a Reaper the being vanished into thin air.

The image tilted then was flung down to the ground. Darin's voice came from the side, "Idiot! Get down!"

When the image focused on Caled again, the arch was near her yet she was staring down at the unconscious Legolas. One hand was gripping his shirt above his heart and the other was holding his head to her chest as if to protect him. Her eyes were wide and even from a distance her pupils could be seen; they were severely dilated.

Then the arch struck them both.

For a moment nothing could be seen but the light now contained to that spot. Then the silhouette of Caled and Legolas showed through. It flickered, moving as if melding together, then finally separated.

There was an explosion and the image turned black.

With a wave of his staff, Dias dispelled the globe. It evaporated, leaving behind a faint smell of burning metal. "When I came to," he said, "all the Reapers were gone and the others were just coming to. We immediately checked on you and Caled. We were astounded by what we found."

At this, Legolas frowned but said nothing.

Dias looked over at him. "Haven't you wondered why your wounds aren't hurting you?"

Legolas started to reply it was because they were healing but stopped, raising hand to touch his chest. The skin was unmarred. Surprised, he opened his shirt to confirm it. Yes, he was unharmed.

"All your wounds were gone," Dias continued. "Not even a scratch remained. What's more, when carrying you here Tan accidentally bumped you against a tree, scraping your right arm. You won't find it there," he added as Legolas reflexively looked at his arm. "It did not show up. All of your wounds had transferred..." Dias hesitated for a moment, "...transferred...to Caled."

Legolas stared at him, almost as if he was waiting for the punch line of a joke that would never come. "My wounds---Caled now has my wounds," he said.

Dias nodded.

"How---"

With a deep sigh Dias cut in, "We don't know. All we know is Caled is now sporting several deep gashes in her stomach and chest that she did not receive firsthand. There's no other explanation for it." He shrugged. He watched Legolas, gauging his reaction to the news.

Legolas was looking off into space, thinking hard. He ran a hand through his hair, brow furrowing in deep thought. He was silent for so long, Dias simply took his seat again, waiting.

"Theo."

Dais blinked, startled out of his daze.

Legolas' eyes were wide with both understanding and fear. "Theo...She saw him...in the dungeon, the workroom, out in Mordor...that's why..."

"Legolas, what are you talking about?" Dias said, concerned.

"I saw things when I was unconscious," Legolas said. "Things I never should have seen." He met Dias' gaze. "I believe it was Caled's memories."

---

It was a bit surprising when Legolas was told that the village they were staying in was the same one they had helped on their first time through. During the time after their first visit the village had finally finished repairs left over from the Orc attack. Matthew was still adjusting to his new role as village head yet everyone was doing their part to make sure he felt welcomed in the position. Kain had since been wed to a young woman, who was about two months pregnant Aurora told them with a grin. Though she did not directly say so, it seemed that in the medicine she had left them was an herb that increased a woman's chances of becoming pregnant. Her reasoning was that after losing so many loved ones the survivors needed something to fill the void.

As soon as he was well enough---being unconscious for almost two weeks left him weak and it took a few days of Aurora's medicine and plenty of what she called "home cooking" to help him regain his strength---Legolas tried to see Caled. Both Clad and Rali stopped him as they had been placed as guards to the room she was in, saying that Aurora's orders were quite plain and simple: no one was allowed in the room.

"Are we quite sure that little snooze he took didn't damage his brain?" Darin snorted into his drink, avoiding Aurora's admonishing glare. It was just after another one of Legolas' attempt at getting in to see Caled, a rather bold move of trying to enter through the window. It would have succeeded had it not been for the fact that Dias had set up an illusion around Caled's room, causing the Elf Prince's vision of the desire window to be disrupted and instead entered the adjoining room. As it turned out, the neighboring window's occupant had been quite thrilled at the intrusion and was thanking the poor Elf over at the bar.

"He's just restless," Aurora said, plucking a slice of meat off the plate in the middle of their table before Tan could snatch it. She smiled smugly at the pouting Elf, fixing herself a sandwich with the remaining cheese and rolls. "Besides, with what Dias told him, he's probably imagining horrid things about Caled's condition."

"I did the best I could," Dias interjected sulkily.

"I know you did," Aurora soothed, patting his arm.

"It's not like she's gonna die," Denya said, eyes flicking over to Legolas. "She just can't cope with the physical strain the new injuries caused. Anyways, I'm beginning to believe Mornie's theory about how her mind powers went a bit crazy back there when Le---when they were attacked," she hastily amended, hiding her eyes from Darin and Tan's puzzled gazes.

"Well, when your 'mind powers,' as you put it, are linked to your emotions, they tend to get out of hand," Dias said.

"Then why not before now?" Darin asked, grabbing the bottle out of Denya's hand to pour himself another drink. "She's been pretty upset before. What about when the Shadow Elves were attacked? She was really mad and---" He stopped, frowning at the clear liquid he had just poured into his mug. He sniffed it then looked over at Denya in question. "Vinegar?"

"Laying off the booze for a while," Denya said vaguely. "Water didn't have enough of a kick."

Making a face, Darin dumped his drink into Denya's mug. "Help yourself; my stomach's not made of iron."

"Back to your question," Tan cut in, "Caled's never been in a situation like that: cornered, injured, weapons useless, can't think straight from the panic so she won't use her fire or plant abilities for fear of hurting one of us, so sure she's about to be impaled. Then the one who's received the brunt of her biased opinion on male Elves ends up nearly killing himself to save her. I'm surprised she didn't faint straight away. Then you have to think about what Legolas said after he woke up."

At Darin's confused look and when Tan simply stood from the table to order more food, Dias picked up with, "Legolas said he saw things when he was asleep. Things he would never have normally seen. This isn't a normal case, though. You've heard of the Law of Equal Trade, right?"

"Basis for the Theory of Alchemy," Darin nodded. "You have to give something of equal value for the thing you desire. Not enough of the raw materials and it won't turn out right, too much and you might get something different."

"It also applies the fact that matter cannot be created or destroyed somewhere in there," Aurora added.

"But what does that fit in---"

"I'm getting there," Dias interrupted. "Now, it is a fact that the wounds Legolas got in the fight and a little while after---namely the lacerations on the chest and stomach---vanished from his body and reappeared on Caled's."

"Right, right, already know that," Darin prodded.

"Put simply: Legolas' physical injuries went to Caled. Correct?"

Darin grunted, becoming annoyed at the repetition. He snatched a roll from the plate Tan brought back.

"So what did Legolas get?"

Darin blinked, caught off guard by the question. Brow furrowed, he straightened in his chair. "What do you mean?"

"Think to the Law of Equal Trade," Dias prompted. "What is the equivalent of a physical ailment?"

For a few moments, Darin looked blankly at him. Then, "Another ailment? A mental one?"

"Correct," Dias said. "A physical ailment for a mental ailment. One of equal stress. Well, it stands to reason that Caled had a slew of mental ailments from all those spells she had cast on her before," here Dias sneered, disgusted by the memory. "And by deduction, her life was pretty hard after that kidnapping ordeal, whatever it was."

Denya shifted, eyes briefly glowing as an angered snarl softly crossed her lips. This went by unnoticed.

"The problem is that there are too many ailments on her end. Something had to set the standard, to set limits in accordance with Equal Trade."

"Legolas' wounds," Darin said, slapping the table.

"Legolas' wounds," Dias repeated, nodding. "Whatever causes this used his wounds as measurement for the switch. In short, Legolas took on a mental wound from Caled while she took his physical wound."

"And that just depressed you," Denya sighed.

Aurora frowned. "How so?"

Taking a swig of the vinegar---much to Darin's disgust---Denya looked them all in the eye. "Whatever her ailment was, it was the same as having your chest and stomach ripped open. And it came from her memories." She looked over at Legolas in an almost pitying manner. "It's no wonder then that he wants to see her so badly. He wants to know whether or not what he saw was real."

---

Aurora hummed a lighthearted tune to herself, gladly tapping mugs with a man beside her. Judging by the hazy way his eyes titled he would be dropping within five or so minutes. Unless he increased the amount of alcohol he was drinking, then it would be sooner.

It was only their fifth week in the village yet this was the eighth wedding to be celebrated. While a fairly easy way to make a bit of money from all the slight injuries that happened, the parties were a wonder on Aurora's stressed nerves.

Taking a small sip of her beer, Aurora glanced upward and to the left, at the third window to the end of the inn. Her eyes automatically slid away and focused more on the middle window. A frown crossed her face. Caled was still the same, if not a bit worst. Just earlier she had gone in to do her morning checkup to find that Caled's wounds had become infected overnight. When she told everyone this, Legolas had paled severely and Mornie looked dumbfounded. A bit of a chat told her that prior to their meeting with the Guild Caled had suffered a wound from a cursed weapon that reversed healing and encouraged infections.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. She would give anything to find out what was wrong with Caled. She hated seeing a friend suffer like that, and it pained her to watch as Legolas slowly retreated further and further into himself. He never spoke of the things he had seen, yet she knew it had been horrible. He was going mad with guilt from having viewed Caled private memories.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Aurora smiled, quickly snatching the small copper bit that was thrown at her. Matthew smiled in return, setting down a giggling toddler. The small girl waddled over to Aurora, pulling at her skirt to be picked up. Bending down, Aurora easily scooped up the child with one hand. "You'd want a refund for my thoughts," Aurora said to Matthew, flipping his coin back to him.

Matthew watched it sail and hit the ground. He shrugged, "A child could put that to better use than I could. Is there anything I can do to help, Lady Aurora?"

Aurora shook her head, shifting to allow the girl to pull at the necklaces she wore. "Not unless you know of a way to wake someone from a coma."

Matthew shook his head regrettably. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, staring at her.

Aurora looked at him in concern. "Is something wrong?" She mentally checked her disguise, had she activated it correctly? Yes, the slight hum she felt in the back of her neck told her it was working properly.

Matthew seemed to stutter, looking quickly from her to somewhere off in the crowd. Finally he stopped, raised a hand to his forehead, and shook his head with an expression of disbelief.

"Matthew, are you well?" Aurora asked, growing worried.

"Uh---yes. Yes, fine," he said dully.

Aurora raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

Matthew cleared his throat unnecessarily. "I'm fine," he said again. He glanced again over at Aurora, and then became silent for several moments.

Aurora let him think and amused the girl she was holding. The child had bright blue eyes that squinted every time she grinned. The Half-Elf felt a pang of lost stab at her heart. She recalled someone who had had eyes just like those...

"A funny thing, Lady Aurora," Matthew's voice broke through her reminiscing.

"What is?" she asked.

"When I first saw your brother, Lord Auron, I was surprised."

Aurora frowned. "Surprised at what?"

Matthew chuckled. "I thought it was just an old man's mistake, really. I even checked the posters to make sure."

Aurora's stomach suddenly chilled. Posters? Could he mean...

_Not the wanted posters. Please, Valor, don't let him mean the wanted posters._

If Matthew realized the bounty on their heads they would have to run for it and she feared how that would affect Caled. Please let him mean something else.

"Then I realized I was far from mistaken. I was dead on with my guessing." He turned to face her, his face unreadable. "I would never have believed you both would wander into my village, of all places."

Aurora kept her eyes steadily trained on him, her free hand gently easing one of her small bags out of its place inside her sleeve and into her hand. She could easily strike him but making him faint and saying he had had too much to drink would be easier. Then she could warn Auron and they might be able to come up with something.

"When you two left, I had realized it too late. I cannot tell you how much I regretted letting you go. And then, when you appeared again, the dreadful condition you all were in caused it to flee my mind. It was only recently I began to ponder it again."

Aurora nodded her head, pretending to be interested in where this was leading. She could feel sweat trickling down her neck, the girl she was holding was looking worried, having felt her tense suddenly.

Matthew sighed, a smile now spreading across his face. This one she knew, it was a smile of triumph. He reached into the front of his tunic and began to pull something out.

Aurora flipped the bag into a more easily thrown position in her hand. She would let him have his say before knocking him out. Even if he was going to try to collect the bounty, he had given them shelter and helped them. He deserved a chance to be heard.

Aurora was so certain he was pulling out a wanted poster that she was surprised when instead he held a yellowed roll of parchment. Judging from the way he handled it, it was very old and valuable. He carefully untied the leather band holding it closed and raised it to Aurora. "I believe this should speak for itself," he said.

Aurora stared at the rolled parchment, not understanding what was going on. Setting the girl on the ground, she reached out to take the parchment. She mildly noticed the girl running to Matthew, looking to be on the verge of tears.

With a gentle hand, Aurora unrolled the parchment. Now that she held it, she could feel that it was more like a cloth. The passage of time and the oils they had used to preserve it had made it stiff like paper. She carefully eased it open, spreading it out.

For the longest time, Aurora could do nothing but stare, dumbfounded. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the sounds of Matthew chuckling, the clinking of mugs, singing, laughing. Deeper still, she was able to pick out the sound of Auron laughing.

The cloth did not hold a display for a reward for their heads. Nor did it proclaim a list of the offenses Aurora and Auron had committed. In fact, there was only one thing written on it: the initials G.C. in the lower right of the cloth.

It was a painting.

A painting of her and Auron.

Aurora felt tears brim her eyes; her mouth had gone slack as she realized what she was looking at. It was unmistakably a scene she had often recalled late in the night or in the early morning. It depicted herself sitting under a tree, bowls and flasks spread out on a blanket, her mixing bowl resting against her crossed legs. She was lifting a small girl into her lap, smiling warmly at the child. Auron stood a little ways away, arms raised to catch the young boy he had just thrown into the air. The grin on his face could not have been rendered more perfectly. That had been the day before Auron's 'failed spell' had sentenced them to death.

As she regained her senses, Aurora noticed something. In the painting she wore a pendant crafted in the shape of a half-circle with swirling designs. Her heart began to thump wildly. She recognized it, but it was slightly off. Her half of the pendant had different patterns.

Slowly, Aurora raised her eyes to meet Matthew's smiling gaze. "H-How?" she stuttered, the whole question lost on its way from her brain to her mouth.

"I knew as soon as I saw Lord Auron," he said. "Of course he was disguised, as you are now. I cannot say truthfully how I knew, I just did." He shrugged.

Aurora dimly shook her head. "No, I mean how---this---who?" She made a motion to the painting.

"Ah, that," Matthew said, nodding. "Take a look at the signature."

Aurora did, frowning. G.C., who was that? Did she know anyone with those initials? G.C. ...G.C. ...

_Gloria..._

"Gloria!" she gasped.

"Yes," Matthew said. "Gloria Corbis. She painted that when she was barely ten. Said it was something she had to do or else she would forget it."

"How did you find this?" Aurora whispered, softly tracing the image of the girl in the painting. She could still hear that giggling gurgle that always greeted her, brown eyes twinkling and black curls bouncing as the babe crawled to her. Then she saw the little girl she had become, barely three when Aurora had tucked them all in for the last time. Had she known that before dawn would come she would never see Sarah or her children again, she would have stayed with them through the night, committing their faces to memory.

"You could call it a family heirloom."

Aurora's eyes widened, snapping up to gawk at Matthew. The man's smile turned nostalgic. "It has been quite a while since they passed on, and I never had the chance to see my ancestors face to face, but it is a well known fact that the founder of this village had a wife named Sarah and six children, the youngest of which was named Gloria. It is said that for the rest of their life, the children would periodically wander the land, searching for a brother and sister who had helped raise them. A brother and sister who had been very close to their dear mother. A brother and sister they yearned desperately to find again. Yet none more so than Gloria."

Through the tears in her eyes, Aurora watched as Matthew drew something out of his pocket and held it up for her inspection. When she saw it, she almost dropped the painting. She quickly caught the precious cloth and rolled it back up. Then she reached out and took what Matthew was holding. With a shaking hand, Aurora pulled out the half of the pendant she carried wherever she went. She placed the two pieces together, and burst into tears when she saw that they fit together perfectly.

At long last she knew. Sarah had gotten away to safety. Her children lived on.

---

Night air was known for being fairly quiet, especially deep in the mountains. Yet this night, things were too quiet. The silence was so absolute it swallowed anything that happened upon the area, chilling it to the core. Birds had long since flown off, chirping in a frightened and angry way. Deer, foxes, even squirrels had fled, leaving it for good. In their primitive minds they knew that that place was no longer safe. That place was a very bad place to be.

White on black eyes blinked slowly, almost in wonder. Odd how one could come to appreciate things like silence after being without it for many years. The world became a better place when you stepped back and saw things clearly.

Though it often took a great deal of pain for your sight to clear.

Na'Tath closed her eyes, a ghost of a sigh escaping her. She could not breathe properly and might not be able to for quite some time. A bubble of mirth swelled in her battered chest yet she did not allow it out. Laughter was something foreign to the Reaper. Something she had not had a need for in...in...

How many years had it been since she last laughed?

_Too many._

She opened her eyes again, lowering them to look at the tree line just ahead of her. It was just a few feet yet nothing had ever looked farther away. She doubted if she could even sit up without some support.

The Reaper had been severely punished for her actions. Her orders had been to observe the Guild and do nothing unless it was obvious that their ascent would be greatly hindered. The Guild had cut through the other Reapers sent to their own death, they would not need assistance.

Yet Kaha'Dak had stayed to finish off those few left. Kaha'Dak had known Na'Tath was there. Kaha'Dak had spurred Na'Tath into speaking. Kaha'Dak had attacked Ke'Dab as it pulled Na'Tath through the shadows and out of the room.

Kaha'Dak had said Na'Tath was not a Reaper.

Na'Tath felt tears form behind her eyes. Tears were an old friend of hers, they visited her very often.

If she was not a Reaper then what was she? How could she still hear the Voice incessantly whispering in the back of her head? How could she reach out and grasp into a living creature's Spark? How could she use the mere shadows around her as a means of transport? How, if she was not a Reaper?

_I can smell your blood and it's not the same as Reaper blood. So, what are you?_

Na'Tath did not know. But someone did. Someone knew what she was. All she had to do was stand and follow the trail leading through the trees, the trail she was literally sitting on. It was over a month old yet so clear to her eyes. If only she was not so injured.

With another sigh, Na'Tath gently rested her head back against the rock she was propped up against. Due to the Voice, she knew that the Shadow Elf was gravely injured, as was another in their party. The Shadow Elf had slaughtered hundreds of Reapers, wounding the Reaper Elite as they had been too slow in retreating. They needed more time to heal before they could be sent out again.

And Na'Tath was closer than they. Her wounds were further along in healing than theirs.

As if through a hazy fog, Na'Tath saw the face of an elderly woman gazing up at her from a blood soaked floor.

_You must stop him. Please help them. You must find Kaha'Dak. You must find her._

She would find Kaha'Dak. In her own time, but Na'Tath would find her.

---

Rali had been in a state of semi-unconsciousness when he heard it. A muffled groan coming from the door of Caled's room. He was jerked fully awake as a second groan, louder and this one sounding pained. He glanced at Clad, who nodded to say he had heard it as well, then ran to fetch Aurora. As he rushed down the stairs he prayed that Legolas was not nearby. When he got news of Caled's awakening, the Elf prince would certainly want to see her, whether or not Aurora thought it wise.

Pushing through the crowded bar, Rali made his way over to where Auron sat discussing something with Dias and Denya, Aurora dozing with her head on the table. Auron looked up; saw his expression, and his eyes widened a bit.

"Aurora," Rali said, shaking her awake.

Aurora grunted, blinking blearily at him. When she too saw his face, she stood up. "She's awake?"

"Not sure," he said. "But Clad and I both heard groaning from the room."

Aurora was gone in a flash and, too late, Rali saw Legolas seated at the bar, twisted around in his chair and looking in their direction fixedly. From the intense expression on his face, Rali knew he had heard.

"Legolas, don't---" Denya's words fell on deaf ears as Legolas seemed to vanish. They caught sight of his back just before the bar door swung shut.

Automatically, the rest rose and made their way across the room. "What's he thinking?" Dias said, shaking his head. "We don't know about the effects Caled is having. For all we know just us being near her could endanger her life! Those wounds could become infection even more!"

"It's not her wounds I'm worried about," Denya breathed, glancing up the stairs.

"What then?" Rali asked.

"Look, maybe Caled knows that he saw into her head," Denya replied, a note of exasperation in her voice. "And if not, Legolas is going to ask her about it. Either way, she will know. What is that going to do to her?"

Rali's response died in his mouth. Just above them, they heard a chocking scream that froze their blood.

Then the fire surrounded them.

----------


	29. Chpt XXIII: Whispers of the Past

A. N. -- Several questions will be answered here, so your patience has been awarded, dear readers. Mention of dark themes later in chapter, you are warned. Other than that, it's really long...oh well.

---

Chapter Twenty Three - Whispers of the Past

"Aw, damn it---"

A crash, a startled yell, the sound of wood splintering, a sudden and very potent odor of fermented pickles, and then a quiet spell before the tinkling of broken glass penetrated the deep black of sleep.

Anex smiled, lazily opening his eye. Darin was standing next to the remains of a stand that had been selling an array of things. The owner was gaping in shock of the wreckage as Darin spewed a long string of profanities, hitting himself on the head with a cutting board. The Avari assumed that his blonde friend had removed the cutting board to inspect it and caused the perfect balance of the other items on the stand to fall.

His deep chuckle made Darin turn around, glaring up at him. "Come off that tree and say that!" Darin threatened, brandishing the cutting board.

"I didn't say anything," Anex said innocently.

"Well...you were thinking something," Darin said, hastily tossing a bag of money to the stand's owner, who had come out of his stupor. "Damn it," Darin said again, striking his forehead. He slumped under the tree Anex was reclining in. "Give me a Bo or a sword or a spear and I can balance a teacup on the tip of any of them! I could hit any given target five times over before I could blink! Give me---"

"A cutting board and you cause hundreds of dollars in damage," Tan cut in as he walked up to Darin, smirking as he tossed a bundle of cloth into Darin's lap. He saw Anex and threw a smaller bundle up to the Avari, saying, "They had the right color, but not exactly the right amount. Tried to compromise."

"That's fine," Anex said, catching it. He rubbed the material in his hand, testing the tension in the fabric. "This will do," he confirmed, tucking it into his side pouch.

"Is that it? Can we go back before I destroy something else?" Darin said, grimacing when another barrel of fermenting pickles cracked open.

"Did you find Aurora's board? Ah, so you didn't break that," he added when Darin showed him. "We just have to find Clad's request, though I'm not sure how. Are there any stores that sell---"

"If not we can ask Bowman for some," Darin said, waving a hand to dismiss the matter. "He's got plenty."

"All right then, we can go now," Tan said as Anex jumped down from the tree.

No sooner had Darin stood up than a deafening 'BOOM' pierced the air. A bright flash of light illuminated the area, painting everything an eerie green hue.

Anex squinted against the light, quickly located the source as people screamed and ran around him to try to get indoors. A pillar of fire broke through his field of vision. His breath stilled for a moment, recognizing the direction it was coming from. The fire was green...

"I think Caled's awake," Tan said gravely.

---

Heat like she had never felt surrounded Aurora, making her recoil. She lost her footing and fell, sliding against the smooth wood of the floor as the force around the pillar of green fire twisted and grew to form a barrier. She gritted her teeth as she slammed against the wall, feeling the plaster crack. She strained to see against the brightness of the flames, raising her hands to block as much as she could from her eyes.

When she had opened the door to the room, she saw Caled rising from the bed, looking around in a daze. Aurora had gone over to her to examine her when Caled let out a scream that shook Aurora to her soul. Then the fire had erupted, bursting through the roof above them and on all sides. The older sections of the walls and floors had caught fire, spreading outside in the hallway. She dimly wondered what had happened to Clad, and Legolas if she was right in assuming he had followed her. Neither was in her direct field of vision nor were they at the top of her priority list.

Aurora squinted against the light, focusing on the center of the flames. There, huddled on the bed which was miraculously not burning, was Caled. She was clutching her head between her hands and rocking back and forth on her knees, sobbing incoherently.

"Caled!" Aurora shouted. Her voice seemed so quiet in her ears. "Caled! Calm down!"

Caled did not hear her.

Aurora dug her hand into her bag, finally closing it around a few of her powder bombs. She eyed the distance and threw them. They struck the pillar and ignited, swirling harmlessly upwards in the draft leading out the hole in the ceiling. However, Caled seemed to notice the explosions. She jerked her head up.

"Caled, it's me, Aurora!" Aurora shouted, lowering her hands to show her face. "Calm down! You need to calm down!"

Caled drew in a shuddering breath as her face twisted in a pained grimace. Her head slowly shook from side to side. "No," she groaned. "No...no...no...not again...not again..."

Aurora frowned, confused. "Caled, what's wrong?" she shouted over the roar of the flames.

Caled just continued to moan. "Not again...no, no, no...not again..."

"Caled, it'll be all right once you calm down!" Aurora insisted. "Please, listen to me!"

Caled suddenly thrashed wildly, screaming random words Aurora did not understand. The pillar around her grew then shrunk quickly. Aurora caught a brief glimpse of Caled, back arched like a bow, arms raised upwards at the hole above her, and her head thrown back, before the flames retreated and closed around her. Tears flowed from her eyes which glowed a vivid green.

_She'll kill herself!_

Aurora stood, not knowing what she could do to stop her but know she had to do something. She was just about to run to Caled when a hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back.

She collided with someone's chest. A cool sensation wrapped around her as an arm circled her waist protectively. She looked up into Dias' face, alarm flashing in her head when she saw the burns that covered his arms.

"Sorry we're late," Denya said, pulling herself up through a hole in the floor. Auron followed closely behind her. All of them were covered in soot yet did not seem to be injured.

"What---"Aurora started, staring at Dias' arms.

"A little late casting an ice spell," Dias cut in. "I managed to cover most of the ground floor so people could get out but I caught a back draft. I'm fine," he added before she could say anything.

"Took a while to make sure everyone got out," Denya said. "Rali's outside, he said he'd tell Darin and the others what happened." She stepped closer, peering around Aurora and into the room. Her eyes widened. "What did happen?"

"I don't know, but we've got to get her to calm down," Aurora said. "She's going to kill herself if she doesn't stop this."

"That's what she wants."

Aurora spun around, staring at Mornie. "What was that!" she demanded.

"She's trying to kill herself," Mornie said seriously. He was standing next to her, looking into the room with an expression of helplessness. Ever since the fight that had left both Legolas and Caled comatose he had had a hard time healing. The throw had cracked his spine and it had taken every ounce of Aurora's medical expertise just to keep him alive while his body mended itself. Still, he could not function as well as he had been able to before, regardless of what form he was in.

"Why?" Denya and Aurora said together.

"She knows," Auron said quietly. They looked at him, realization dawning suddenly. "She knows what Legolas saw."

---

The smell of wood burning cut through his senses, jarring Legolas awake. He went stiff, staring down the gaping hole he was hanging over. Slowly, he turned his head to see where he was.

He recognized the inn, or what was left of it. The hallway he had been running down scant moment before must have exploded, he reasoned. His clothes had been caught by a broken plank of the floorboards, leaving him to dangle high above the hole. Below, he could see the shredded wood catching fire, the flames growing higher.

Legolas felt a sudden lurch as the plank he was hanging off of snapped under his weight. Before he had time to worry about how to land on the ground below without skewering himself, something grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. He was lifted and pulled to safety as the wood crumpled away.

Clad looked down the hole, giving a grunt of dislike. He turned back at Legolas, who was righting himself where he had been thrown. "Danger," he said, motioning towards the end of the hall behind the Elf. "Caled make fire. Hurt Caled."

Legolas immediately sprang to his feet, spinning around and running back to the room Caled was in. Clad caught him by the arm, stopping him. Legolas turned, anger blazing in his eyes. "What are you---"

"Care," Clad said, his words almost lost in the roaring flames around them. "Caled hurting. Careful with Caled. Fragile."

Legolas searched Clad's face, wondering for what felt like the hundredth time what the Half-Berserker was thinking. His hair and hood never allowed his eyes to be seen, thus covering any real clue as to his expression. "I know," Legolas said, pulling his arm out of Clad's grip.

Clad nodded. Without another word, the two made their way down the hallway. It was obvious that the flames had been ignited in random scatterings along the walls, ceiling, and floor. Now the flames had merged together, consuming the old wood at an alarming rate.

Just at the end of the hallway stood Auron, Denya, Dias, and Aurora with Mornie at their feet. They were all outside the room Legolas knew was the one Caled had been in. They were discussing something, looking very worried. A green light was pouring from the remains of the doorframe, now a shattered hole in a slowly burning wall.

As Legolas neared them he heard Auron say, "She knows what Legolas saw." A frown crossed Legolas' face. What did he mean? Was he talking about Caled? Fear gripped him, causing his stomach to twist unpleasantly. What would Caled do if she knew that he had seen those particular memories?

She already knows, said the part of his mind not numbed. That's what happened here. She knows and lost control of her abilities again.

On their on accord, his feet took him through the hole in the wall, closer to Caled.

Aurora gasped his name. Maybe as a warning, maybe just because of surprise or shock. Or maybe in fear.

Caled had jerked, glowing eyes set on Legolas.

---

_pain...pain...so much pain..._

_**he knows...he knows...**_

_valor make it stop...its hurts...it hurts..._

_**he saw...he saw ...**_

_it hurts...I want Theo...I want my Theo back..._

_**Theo can't come back...and that bastard knows it...**_

_no...no...he can't...that's private..._

_**he knows...damn him...he saw...saw Theo die...**_

_no, keep him out...keep him out...keep him away..._

_**he saw it all...**_

_stay away...stay away...that's private..._

_**he saw it...all...**_

_no! It's a secret! No one knows! No one will ever know!_

_**but he does...**_

_no!_

_**he saw it...he saw the Orc...**_

_Valor, no! No! No one will ever know!_

_**he does...**_

_the Elf saw it..._

**_he knows...he saw..._**

_keep it private._

---

The scream that tore from Caled's throat was like the sound of a soul breaking.

The pillar of fire that had been pouring into the sky twisted around, bending backwards on itself. It was like a giant caterpillar had stood on its end and was bringing its head down to the ground.

Aurora shouted at Legolas again, warning him of the fire descending on him. Dias and Auron were hastily casting a spell that would not arrive in time. Denya and Mornie could only stand and stare.

Legolas did not hear any of this. The roar of the flames covered all but the small, shaking voice that was reverberating in his head.

_**he knows...he saw...**_

He felt an intense heat and his vision was bathed in green. He did not flinch, though. His eyes were steady, focused on Caled.

She was staring back, glowing eyes alternating between wide and narrow, her tears cutting tracks in the soot on his cheeks. Her scream had died away, replaced by a gasping whimper that cut at him. She looked to be in so much pain.

_**keep it private.**_

The fire around him grew hotter. Legolas could feel his clothing beginning to catch fire in some places.

Still he kept his gaze.

For a moment, Caled's eyes returned to normal, wonder passing through them. She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. Then the glow blocked them out again and she howled brokenly, clutching her head as she bowed forward sharply, tipping herself off balance.

Legolas felt as if he were moving through tar. The fire was so heavy. But he had to get to her, he had to catch her. She was falling, she would be hurt, she had been hurt so much already, she was falling.

Legolas caught her before she hit the ground.

He could always catch her.

---

Something warm enveloped her. It was cooler than the fire she was accustomed to and strong yet gentle. She had not felt like this in a long, long time. Not since Theo had been alive. Still, it had never felt that this. This was different. This was...closer, more comfort and protection...more care...

All this passed through Caled's mind in a second's time. Then she realized what it was.

Legolas' embrace.

She tensed, odd jumbles of memories and voices passing before her as she started to push away.

-

_:Her Uncle setting her on his shoulders as they talked, walking around the village. "Elves may have banished us Caled-Veleg, yet they had without a doubt a place among the most blessed of the Races. Remember that, dearheart.":_

_:"Do anything else and I will kill you! You have my word on that, Elf!":_

_:That cursed old man in white leaning over her. She trembled, bloodshot eyes staring at his hands in case he would touch her again. "You will kill that spawn of Elven filth when you see him. Understood? He is just like the others.":_

_:"You were born, Elf. That is reason enough.":_

_:The old man prodded her with a booted foot as she lay twitching on the ground. "Should I continue with the lesson? Or have you gotten it? Elves are scum! They only wish to harm you as those have done!":_

_:"Because I was once at the mercy of Elves. I still have nightmares.":_

_:"Elves only want to use you as their plaything! You are below them! You are not worth mud to them!":_

_:Legolas fretting over her, the fear in his eyes for her safety startling her. "Did they hurt you? Did they touch you?":_

_:"You're filth, that's all you are!":_

_:"Why are you so intriguing?":_

_:"Do you think they would listen to such a bizarre story as this? They would beat you for just speaking to them!":_

_:Legolas smiling at her as she held the undamaged egg. "The way I see it is that egg is you trust. It is fragile and can break if one is not careful. I kept that in mind as I carried it.":_

_:"No Elf would ever touch you. You're filthy. You reek of Orc. You'll never be able to be clean again. You're dirty, spoiled, revolting. You're trash; no more to it.":_

_:"Go back to sleep, coramin.":_

_:"Uncle? What's 'coramin' mean? Daddy says that to Mommy a lot?":_

-

Her arms lost their strength and she collapsed against his chest. She hid her face in his signed shirt, breathing in a mixture of the burnt clothing and his own scent. An odd mix that brought out the rest of her tears.

A shuddering breath heralded the sobs that escaped her battered chest, the dressings blooming bright red. The stress of conjuring the fires and awakening into that nightmare had taken their toll. What little good Aurora's stitching had done was useless now.

Legolas knew. He had seen what those foul Orcs had done to her, what the wizard had done, all that had happened.

And still he held her. He held her to him. He rocked her slowly, gently stroking her hair. Even in such close proximity, he was mindful not to touch her skin directly. He still recalled her heated words that day, warning him never to touch her.

He still held her.

---

Darin stared, mouth hanging open, as the fire that had looked to be on the verge of engulfing the entire building suddenly---'**POOF**'---vanished.

The citizens that had congregated outside the inn broke into nervous cheers, some concerned that the fire would start up again.

Tan and Rali exchanged worried glances before tugging Darin out of his daze. They hurriedly yet carefully made their way through the crowd and back into the inn, mindful of the burnt wood.

---

Denya's hand covered her mouth, holding in a sob of her own.

Aurora had forced Legolas to release Caled, laying her on the floor to treat her bleeding wounds. The Elf Prince had allowed it yet was kneeling beside Caled, one of her hands clutching his sleeve in a death grip. It was obvious that Legolas wanted to take her hand in his yet was restraining himself.

And with good reason. Denya sighed, turning away. She sat down, dangling her legs over the side of the hole in the ground she had climbed through to get to this level. It seemed that Caled's curse had conditioned a reflex in her. One that would be very tough to break. And the scene behind her was enough to break your heart.

Denya rubbed her face, fighting fatigue. She would stay up all night with Auron, Dias, maybe even Aurora and Tan, and they would find a way to speed up Caled's recovery from the reflex. For the sake and sanity of both Caled and Legolas, they would have to succeed.

Clad's familiar shadow fell over her before a thick arm reached around her. He pulled her back against him, settling himself behind her. His other arm draped itself loosely around her waist. Even with his large frame she could feel him trembling.

Denya took the hand around her waist and laced her fingers through his, squeezing it reassuringly. She closed her eyes, her tension flowing out with every exhale.

The others talked, thinking they knew what was going on. No matter what she would say, they all thought what they wanted. Well, let them. It did not matter. Clad meant so much to her and vise versa, yet it was not love like Aurora and Dias shared. It never would. She was closer to Clad than anyone, alive or dead, yet they both knew they were not the other's infamous 'soul mate.'

They had been through so much together. Words were not needed between them. It was unnecessary jargon. A mere action or touch spoke thousands to them.

Clad was reeling from almost losing two friends, possibly more if the fire had gone out of control. The loss of their old friend still haunted him, making the normally fearless hulk quake at the thought of being left again.

He had been left behind enough. Anymore would kill him.

Clad lowered his head, resting it on her shoulder. Denya felt his teeth clench together tightly, no doubt fighting again a scream. She raised a hand, pushing his hood off and combing her fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

Now was the time to comfort. Soon they would have to move on. The Reapers had been unnaturally quiet and it bothered her. They would make their move soon.

The question was when.

---

The pain was still there, yet it was numbed somewhat. Opening her eyes, Caled slowly blinked, taking in the sunlight pouring over her head and onto the sheet covering her. She turned her head, taking in her surroundings. She was in a room, an inn more than likely. Sparse furnishings yet all in all well kept.

Something was in her hand. She was holding something.

Sitting beside her bed, head lying on the sheet, was Legolas. Her hand was clenched around a part of his sleeve, unyielding until she realized it and loosened her grip. He was turned to face her, brow furrowed in worry though he was asleep.

A smile crossed her face. For some reason, it warmed her heart to see him waiting at her bedside for her to wake up. More so that he had allowed her to hold onto him.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Legolas stirred. His pale blue eyes blinked open, then moved to look at her. His head jerked up. His mouth opened but he stopped.

"'Morning," Caled said, her voice dry and scratchy.

Legolas looked at her a moment more before smiling as well. His other hand came up to brush her sandy-blonde hair back from her face. "Good morning, Caled," he said softly. "How're you feeling?"

"Weird," she said honestly. "Painkillers?"

"Painkillers," Legolas nodded. His eyes were still studying her, hand still brushing her hair back though no more strands were in her eyes.

For a fleeting instant, Caled wanted to reach out and hug him and cry her eyes out for no reason. Then it was gone, replaced by the recollection of what happened.

"The inn!" she gasped, jerking upwards.

"It's fine," Legolas stopped her, gently holding her in bed by her shoulders. "It's fine. The others are working on it. No one was hurt, just some damage to the building itself."

Caled allowed him to guide her back to the bed. When he drew his hands away, one of hers reached out and caught his sleeve again. She blushed as he frowned momentarily at that but did not say anything. She laid her hand at her side so as not to give his arm a cramp. Legolas smiled at her again.

Silence came between them, slowly growing tense. Legolas was about to burst, wanting to ask questions but refusing to. Caled was slowly working through the memories of what had happened. When at last it all came back, she turned her eyes back to the ceiling.

"So, you saw," she said, voice dulled.

Legolas looked down, nodding.

"How?"

He shook his head. "We don't know for certain, yet everyone seems to think it coincides with you having my wounds."

Caled nodded. "How much?" she asked, her voice very quiet.

Legolas closed his eyes, willing away the scenes. "A lot."

Caled closed her eyes against the tears.

"Was it real?" Legolas asked before he could stop himself.

Silence. Then, "Yes. It was."

Caled opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. She took a deep breath. "It shouldn't have been any different, now that I think about it. After all, we had gone there countless times."

Legolas frowned, confused. Then it hit him: she was telling him what had happened to her and the Shadow Elf hybrids all those years ago.

"We always hated being in the village. All the other children wouldn't play with us for fear of winning a game or accidentally hurting us and having to be punished for it. We were fine with that, after all, there were a large number of us and we entertained ourselves.

"Seena had found it. She showed it to us and we couldn't stop thanking her. It was a huge lake, complete with a small waterfall on one side and a sand bank on the other. It was our secret place."

Legolas suddenly recalled the night they spent in the Shadow Elf village and seeing Caled weeping at a cratered clearing, talking about time spent in their 'secret place.'

"We play all sorts of games that day, stayed until night, and watched the sunrise in the morning. We always came back, always."

Caled paused, swallowing. "That---that morning we knew something was off. It didn't smell as clean as it usually did. The Orcs appeared before we could prepare ourselves. We ran, we ran faster than we ever had. The older one who could control their powers tried to fend them off but for some reason they wouldn't burn and they couldn't fall into the holes they made. They simply walked over them. We ran, ran right into another group. The leader caught Seena, who was leading us out. He laughed, saying it was useless. We were theirs now. We belonged to them. Then, he broke Seena's legs and---and slit her throat. I was near the front of the group with Theo, my brother. I was right there when she fell on the ground. I was hit with her blood."

She paused again, fighting against tears. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, then went on. "They marched us all the way to Mordor. They had some wizard put spells on the younger ones. The spells stopped our mental powers from developing. The Orc were afraid we would grow to use them against out captors. They kept the older ones in check by threatening the young ones. Every time they acted up, another child would go missing for a few days and returned in a bag.

"A while passed, not long. Someone came and inspected us, wanting to buy a good number of the little ones. I was spared, said I was too ragged." A dark chuckle. "They had other plans. They kept us as slaves, working in their armory. Every time we'd speak in our native language they'd beat us. If we looked at them, they'd beat us. Even though I was the youngest one left I still had to work with the older ones. If I didn't, they'd punish me by defiling my brother." She closed her eyes momentarily. "As I grew, they stopped having their fun with him and turned to me. Every day," she whispered, shaking her head. "Every day..."

Legolas gently squeezed her arm, making sure it was covered by her sleeve. She tried to smile at him, but failed.

"We tried to escape once. Failed. We could have gotten away, but they took Cali out with them, saying they'd kill her. She was pregnant, the father another hybrid like us, Jaycon," her eyes misted. "I couldn't let them do that. It was too cruel. They rewarded my surrender by killing Theo, then later torturing Cali in front of me. When they were through with her they tossed her into the kiln and turned to another that had tried to escape with us, Denni.

"Everything blurred after that. The next thing I knew, I was being examined by a potential buyer. The Orc that was showing the buyer around tried to gloss over me, saying I had been used to much. To prove his point, he shoved his tongue down my throat. I finally snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to act. I grabbed the nearest thing and bashed it against his head. It's a blur after that, just that I was on the floor after it was over, covered in Orc blood and the buyer was laughing as he agreed to take me.

"I was taken to Orthanc and chained to a wall in a room near the top. The only thing in there beside me was a large mirror." A small laugh. "Funny, but some times I thought I felt someone watching me through that mirror. The buyer, a wizard in white robes, came in and...and...put a curse on me. He said it was for training, that I had a greater purpose to fulfill and that the curse would be a blessing in due time." Her breathing grew ragged, tears gathering in her red eyes and falling down her cheeks.

"He had cursed me so that whenever a man touched me I would relive those days. I would feel them...raping me. It didn't end there. He had prisoners that he sent up regularly to act out the deed, making sure it was embedded into me. He seemed fond of using Elf slaves. Then, he sent up Elves that weren't his slaves; they were his spies. And they did it freely.

"Everything was hazed over during that time. I have no idea how long I had been in that tower. Then one day I heard strange sounds. It was like trees moaning in the wind but a thousand times stronger. There was shouting and shouting and so much chaos. But all I cared about was that no one had been sent up, I was glad for that. Then the Orc came. It came ready to kill me, as ordered. Orthanc was being attacked, there was no way the wizard would fully win. He was going have me killed as a precaution. I couldn't do anything to stop it, too weak from hunger and the curse's effects to do anything but lay there.

"Then I saw it: a Reaper. It stood behind the Orc and killed it. As it fell, its blade sliced through my side. The Reaper broke my chain and dragged me away. I can't remember how or where to, but I got away. I got away. I wandered for countless days, the haze the curse induced lingering. It must have been months before I met Mornie. He took pity on me and cared for me, even tried to treat my wound as it was getting infected no matter how many times I tried to cure it. Even then I was still in that haze. While wandering, I fell in the river and was washed downstream. Went I got ashore, I was alone. Mornie couldn't find me. I wandered around for days."

Caled turned her head, looking at Legolas, her eyes still watery yet warm. She smiled. "Then I met you. And threatened to kill you after saving you from those Orcs."

Legolas allowed a smile, willing her prior words away from his mind. "I believe I had saved you from them, Caled," he quipped.

She laughed softly. "Yeah, guess you did."

Legolas studied her, fascinated by her. It was a miracle that she was alive and here she was teasing him. There she was, melting his heart with her smile. "That was a long tale," he said, as gently as he could, "and you must rest. I don't think you know how tired you are."

"I think I have a fair idea," Caled said, stifling a well timed yawn. Her eyes felt rather heavy after talking for so long. She knew she could not fight sleep much longer.

"Go to sleep, Caled," Legolas said softly.

The words struck a chord in Caled's memory. "Elf?" she said, tentative.

"Yes?" He refused to show disappointment as she still did not call him by name.

"Can you...can you stay with me?" she asked, blushing.

"But of course I will," he replied. He had been planning on it anyways.

"I meant...in the bed," she said, so quietly it might have been a whisper. "I just don't want to wake up and you not be there, even if you're just going to check on the others, I'd start thinking all sorts of things and---"

Legolas' laugh cut her off. He shook his head, amused. "If it's what you want, Caled," he said, "then I will."

Caled's blush deepened. She scooted over as best she could to make room. He crawled in the bed, staying on top of the sheets she noted. She smiled; he was still mindful of her skin. Even though the curse had been taken care of he was wary.

He jerked when she turned on her side, facing him, and wrapped her arms around him. "Caled?" he said, unsure of what to do. This was the most affection she had ever shown him and he did not know if he could control himself.

"It's ok," Caled said. "Dias took care of the curse, remember? It shouldn't be active." She closed her eyes, sleep tugging at her. Just before she fell in to the darkness, she felt Legolas' arms encircle her, cocooning her with his warmth.

----------

A. N. -- Let the sappiness begin!

Ok, seriously, the sap was long overdue and I think after all that's happened they deserve some happy time. Yea!

On another note: several people have e-mailed me with questions pertaining to Denya and Clad's relationship. Well, there's you answer. Sorry, but they're not an item.


	30. Chpt XXIV: First Steps

Chapter Twenty Four - First Steps

Tan held in a laugh as both Denya's and Aurora's head dropped to the table, where they met with a loud 'BANG' and a scatter of papers and ink. Dias's head jerked up from his hand, blinking blearily. Auron rolled his eyes then turned back to the paper he was reading and making short notes on.

"Should we call it a night?" Dias mumbled, digging the heel of his hand into his eye. "Crying out loud, it's been a day and a half."

"We're getting this done," Denya snapped, rubbing the knot on her forehead. "I already told you once, I won't say it again: it will kill them if we can't help her."

"Getting over a reflex such as this isn't easy, Denya," Dias yawned. "It takes time."

"And how long has it been since you removed the curse, Dias?" Tan asked, smirking at the silent reply. "It is time that we assess the situation as Denya has said."

"How do we even know for certain that this is a budding relationship anyway?" Auron asked.

"Do you have holes for eyes?" Aurora drawled, rolling her head to glare at her brother from its place on the table.

"There has always been one---and only one---issue between the two besides the fact that they still won't acknowledge the other's feelings openly," Denya said, popping her neck with a slight wince. "And that is this reflex of hers. She terrified of feeling Legolas rape her, even though she knows he isn't. That curse got one last 'ha-ha' before we killed it."

"Nothing short of wiping her mind is going to work," Dias insisted.

"That is a possibility," Tan murmured.

Dias raised an eyebrow. "And there's another?"

"Yes," Tan said, not looking up from the papers he was shifting through. "She could simply will herself not to imagine it at all."

"She's not doing this on purpose---"

"I know," Tan said, raising a hand to stop Denya mid-rant. "But the fact remains that it is HER mind doing it. With enough willpower and encouragement, she could do it on her own. However, at the rate she and Legolas are 'budding' as you have put it, she won't be able to cope. Too soon and she'll be scarred, and no amount of time afterwards will heal that. Too late and they could lose this completely. So," he leaned forward, spreading his hands out in a beseeching manner, "how do we do it?"

"It would depend on how far along she is now," Auron said, still examining the same papers. He leaned back in his chair, lowering the papers to look at them all. "If she's able to handle small increments of touch, then this will be simpler and easier than we thought. A little push and the rest she can do. Taken that Legolas doesn't act too hasty," he added, chuckling.

"How do we know if she can?" Aurora asked.

"We ask."

---

The moon light pouring in through the windows reached just to the end of the bed. So, either she had only been asleep for a few hours or a whole day and a half.

It felt like the latter.

Caled lazily shifted, adjusting herself into another position. She was developing a crick in her neck for some reason. It was not until she felt something wrap around her did she tense, remembering.

Legolas was in the bed with her.

Raising her eyes, Caled saw he was fast asleep. She frowned. Had he really stayed with her all this time? Her confusion quickly evaporated, replaced by awe.

It had been just over a year ago that the two of them had left Rivendell. A year of traveling together. A year of bickering, most of which she had initiated. A year of fighting Orcs and Reapers. A year of fearing and hating him. A year of damning Gandalf for sending an Elf on this mission with her.

And throughout that entire year, she had never once stepped back and looked at Legolas.

He had a thin yet elegant face, structured in ways that spoke of his esteemed heritage, a high, noble brow, hair that was reminiscent of golden thread---she wondered if it was as soft as it looked---and eyes that were as clear as the sky on a cloudless day, though they were closed now. He was tall compared to her, their current position left them with her head under his chin and her feet leveling somewhere with his shins. Though thin, his frame could be commented on as toned, as Denya often said on more than one occasion of 'accidentally' interrupting the poor Elf with he was changing. Yet even though he was strong and an excellent fighter, pitting his own against several Orcs at a time, at that moment all she felt was gentleness from his body; tender and protecting.

Then there was the fact that she was this close to him. Even after everything he had seen, he was there in bed with her, willingly. He was not there to simply indulge in her childish request. He responded to her movements, seeking to keep her in the circle of his arms even if he was not entire conscious.

A small flame of hope warmed her.

Legolas did not think she was dirty. He had every right to do so, but he did not.

Still, what did it matter?

_A lot_, she told herself.

The blasted wizard and his curses---what had been the purpose anyway? Now that she thought of it, she did not know. Gandalf had assisted her in sorting through her jumbled, hazed memories, separating the violent images. She knew now which of those had been induced by the curse, and which ones had not. Yet no where in them could she find the wizard giving her a reason for it all.

Besides, the curse had been taken care of.

...Right?

Caled bit her lip, lowering her eyes. Dias had removed the curse, of that she was sure of. She had felt the weight lift off her along with the hindering spells on her mental abilities. She should not be experiencing anymore of its effects.

But why had she when that Tree-Guard grabbed her? Why had she felt him violating her?

Tears pricked her closed eyes. She wanted to be rid of this, once and for all. It had haunted her for too long. It had caused too much pain for her, too much stress, too much heartache, too much of everything.

There was one way to see if it was gone.

Opening her eyes, Caled tried to slow her breathing so as not to wake Legolas. She could feel the fear clogging itself at the back of her throat, making it hard to swallow. It would take but half a second then it would be done, why was she so worried?

Because what if it did not last half a second? Could she really cope with it being Legolas this time?

Steeling herself, she raised her eyes, concentrating on Legolas' face. Her fear was pushed back for a moment, but that was all the time she needed. She lifted a hand, moving it only a few inches, and pushed it past the opening of Legolas' shirt. Her fingers hesitated, then extended.

Skin to skin.

Her breath had stopped, heart beating so loudly she felt it in her head.

Her vision tinted red, the sickeningly familiar buzz hummed in her ears, her gut twisted in horror.

But nothing more happened.

As time stretched on with her hand still touching Legolas' chest, the smile on her face grew wider and wider. Relief washed over her and she went limp, hand slumping back to the bed.

Caled laughed silently, tears happily sliding unheeded down from her eyes. The red was still there, as was the buzzing. And, when she thought back on it, she had heard the voice and felt the ghostly pressure of hands on her body. But they were all pale shadows of their former terror.

It was over. Finally.

---

Damage to the inn was surprisingly minimal. The fires had been expelled simultaneously and no one was gravely injured. It had to be closed for a while to repair the wood damage. Caled apologized continually until they left the village, begging the proprietor to let her pay for the damage done. She was of course turned down.

For whatever reason, way, or goal, the wounds Caled had received from Legolas vanished within four days of her waking up. Aurora was perplexed but shrugged, saying they had no idea why it had happened anyway. After making sure the wounds would not be reappearing any time soon, they began to take their leave of the village. Just before they left, Matthew caught them and asked to have a private word with Auron and Aurora. They returned with supplies and a small bag Aurora clutched to her chest protectively, eyes misty with tears.

The trail back down was easy to navigate this time as they had grown well accustomed to the area. Still, they had decided without discussing to take their time. Something was silently telling them that their time was short together, to savor it while they could.

Every step brought them closer to Rivendell. Closer to the end of their travel together. Closer to the time in which they would have to say their goodbyes.

Daylight kept these thoughts away. Denya and Darin turned to pranking the others mercilessly during the light hours, while at night the moon seemed to dampen their spirits. The two sat by the fires, quietly talking in whatever conversation was going on, leaning against each other or Denya against Clad as she worked on her wood carving. The others also grew a bit melancholy, but not as much as Denya.

Still, they walked on.

The terrain began to change. They stuck closer to the mountains until the River came into view. Startling everyone, Denya broke into a laugh, kicking off her boots and jumping into the Bruien. She swam into the currents, ducking in and out of their sight like she was a fish. It took them a while to get her out of the water and even so she did it grudgingly. To add to their question, there was a grin that would not leave her face the entire night.

"Geez, what's gotten into you, Denya?" Aurora asked, handing her a dish piled with food.

"Nothing really," Denya said, eating with gusto. "It's just been forever since I last saw the Bruien." Her eyes strayed to the flowing waters, her grin stretching further. "I couldn't help it, I had to get in there again. I had to swim in the river one more time."

That night, since they were in familiar and protected territory, they deemed it safe enough to forgo leaving a guard. They would be at the Last Homely House by afternoon and each wanted to be well rested.

So no one noticed when someone intruded into their camp...

---

Legolas knew something was wrong from the moment he awoke. When he had laid down to rest the night sky had been clear, giving a perfect view of the stars outlined by the mountains and trees around them. The air had been crisp, hinting at the coming fall a little ways off. The river was gently flowing, a peaceful noise in the background to lull him to a deep sleep.

But it was pouring rain, the sky black and smoky, the river swollen to dangerous proportions.

"I swear if he's behind this, I'll gut him like the pig he is!" Denya was screaming, securing a waterproof cloak around her.

Legolas was on his feet, looking around in confusion. The others were awake, Caled just rousing herself from all the commotion. Dias was seated in the center of their camp, staff levitating in front of him. His eyes were closed and his hands were rested on his knees, breathing low and even. A faint white light shimmered around the area, forming a bubble that shielded them from the rain.

Anex handed Legolas a waterproof cloak. Nodding over to Denya, he mouthed 'Elrond' in answer to the Elf Prince's unasked question. "It was like this when we woke up," he said, motioning to the rain.

"How long?" Legolas inquired, putting the new cloak on.

"Few minutes, not really long," the Avari said. He gave Caled a cloak and moved to Auron, speaking to him in low tones.

"Is everything all right?" Caled asked, standing beside him.

"As far as I can tell? Yes," Legolas said, instinctively moving his long knives into better accessible places on his belt. "Just a bit of out of place rain."

"This doesn't feel right," Caled whispered. She shivered, tucking Mornie under her arm. She moved closer to Legolas.

Seeing this, Legolas smiled gently. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked at him, and smiled back. She did not retreat as he had thought she would. Instead, she reached out, touched his sleeve for a brief moment, and then walked off to Aurora. She crouched beside the red-blonde haired Half-Elf, talking about something---possibly the rain, Legolas did not know, he did not pry into it---as Aurora shifted through her bag of medicine. Pulling out a small packet, she handed it to Caled, who swallowed the contents with a generous amount of water.

Legolas turned away, watching the rain though he did not wish to. Ever since the day Caled had spoke of her ordeal, she started showing little signs of affection. None had been as great as her request for him to share the bed that day, but they all were just as meaningful to him. Each was a testament of the fact that she was getting better.

The curse was gone for good that much was certain. The reflex was the only problem remaining for her yet even that was being handled quickly. Aurora's medicine, Anex nightly meditations with Caled and Tan own counsel---who was the only one familiar with the effects of a long term mental ailment---all aided with the recovery.

But she had been showing affection before that.

Legolas pushed the thought away, not wanting to dwell on that. Caled had been through hell then and had to relive her revolting past. He had simply been there when she needed someone. She would have acted the same way if Dias or Tan had been waiting at her bedside instead of him.

While he believed this through and through, he could not shake off the small voice that said it was not so.

"If the rain does not stop in another ten minutes, we move on," Auron's voice broke through their thoughts and conversations. "We'll go slow and stick to the river since it runs close enough to the Last Homely House. Break camp." At the command the others immediately went about the task.

All except Darin.

Standing at the edge of the bubble shield Dias was generating, he was still. Staring out at the rain clouded terrain, he neither moved at Auron's words or when Denya shouted at him to 'get a move on.'

Turning to look at him, Darin's posture suddenly alerted Legolas to the soft tingling in the back of his head. Something was off, something was not right. His hand unconsciously closed on his knife's hilt as he slowly turned his eyes to follow Darin's fixed gaze.

The others picked up on their change in behavior. Bags and parcels now secured, they moved at length to where Darin stood, hands readied on their weapons.

Suddenly Darin spoke. "Lower the shield, Dias."

When he did, Legolas froze. It all became clear in an instant as his senses were assaulted by what the shield held back. The rain was heavy and thick yet it did not hide the huge, gnarled trees or the ivy that grew strung across branch to branch. The potent smell of tree pollen was being washed away with the runoff yet it was still there, strange and powerful amid the clean scent of the water. The river as well sounded different. Even with the bangs of thunder and the pounding of the rain it was obvious that the running water had changed, no longer running over a smooth river bed of gravel and rocks but crossing with tree roots, rotten wood and moss ridden boulders.

"What is it?" Caled was at his side. Through his shock he registered the concern and worry in her voice.

"How?" Darin spoke. He turned, eyes wide in a mixture of fear and wonder, and faced Legolas. "How did this happen?"

Legolas shook his head. "I don't know."

"What is going on?" Aurora said, looking from one to the other.

Darin turned back and stared out again, shaking his head.

"This is Mirkwood," Legolas breathed. Amid the sounds of the rainfall and thunder, it was a small wonder how everyone heard him.

"Mirkwood?" Auron repeated. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Darin replied. "Yes. There's no doubt, this is Mirkwood."

"How?" Legolas whispered to himself. He knew that had been near Rivendell the previous night, he was certain of it. How had they wound up in a place hundreds of miles---across _mountains_---yet none of them had any recollection of it?

"Bizarre, bizarre, no?"

Everyone jumped at the sound, whirling around to face different directions yet none showing a speaker. Quick glances were enough to know that no one had located the one who spoke. Yet the words had another effect.

Darin broke into a run.

Denya swore, chasing after him. Clad followed her soon tailed by the rest as they saw what happened. Darin ran, ducking branches, jumping over roots, turning sharply as if he was possessed. He appeared to know where he was going but he neither said so nor did he slow down to wait for them.

As he ran, Legolas dimly noted that he recognized the area. It was the northern edge of the forest, a remote location far from any village. There was one but it was well away from where they were.

When they finally caught up with Darin, he had stopped just within an over grown clearing. He was shaking, head snapping around to looking all over the area. "This was it," he said, voice shaking as well. "This is it. This was where we were. This is where it happened."

"Darin?" Denya said gently. "Darin, what are you talking about?"

"This is where they died," Darin said, his right hand massaging his left arm absently. "This is where they were killed." He raised his head to look off to their right, eyes widening further, and took a hesitant step forward.

Denya looked over at Auron in question. Auron was watching Darin closely and motioned for them to follow him.

Darin walked slowly, almost as if he thought if he ran again his destination would vanish. He pushed quietly through the underbrush in a straight line. They followed close behind, each peering ahead through the rain to try and see where they were headed. A dark shape began to form, slowly growing as they advanced. They saw a small column of smoke rising into the air just to be washed away by the falling water. Soon the shape of a cave became clear, almost hidden in the surrounding foliage by the moss and ivy covering it. Darin paused for a moment before entering the gaping black hole. They proceeded, drawing weapons they could use in the small space.

For a while they could see or hear nothing out of the ordinary. Then a sudden influx of light ahead of them illuminated the smoothed cave wall. Darin had pulled back a set of heavy drapes a few feet ahead of them and was standing there with his hand still clasping the draped.

"Come in, bizarre folks, come in," a voice beckoned.

With nervous, puzzled, and intrigued glances to each other, they moved on. Darin had moved past the drapes, holing them back until everyone was through.

They stood in a room that was littered with strange, random objects on the floor and the shelves on the walls. A fire blazed in the corner, a pot resting on it just beginning to boil. A pile of ragged clothes was thrown near the fire, a trail of them leading off to the back of the room where another set of heavy drapes hung, separating another room.

"Ohoho, quite a lot, this lot," the voice chuckled.

The pile of clothes shifted before a head rotated around to look at them all. The old man studied them each in turn, chuckling and saying odd things to himself as he scuttled towards them. He was stooped even though the ceiling of the room was high above them.

Darin dropped onto one knee, eye level with the old man. He stared at him as the old man stopped in front of him.

"Ah, so long, so long," the old man laughed. "Lando's vegetable had grown splendid indeed. Selene's eyes prevailed I see. Oh, long, long steps, yes long. So much fighting, she would not like to know that, no, no. No know, not Selene." Turning back to the others, he said, "No see, yet now staring. Ah, young ones, so distrusting. Good thoughts for, but still, no trust for old one. Long, long steps, long, long nights. Oh, so few roads yet you found them, found them though he tried to keep you from finding them." The old man rocked his head back as far as he could and laughed heartily for one so decrepit.

Instantly Legolas knew who's home they had walked into.

The Old Hermit Darin had known so long ago.

----------


	31. Chpt XXV: Unasked Questions

Chapter Twenty Five - Unasked Questions

The Old Hermit ushered them further into the cave, kicking a few items off the floor away to make room for them to sit. They did, watching the Old Hermit closely in case he lashed out. Though Darin trusted the ancient one, the others were on edge from finding that their location changed overnight.

The Old Hermit babbled to himself constantly, mostly in odd phrases that made him laugh. He shuffled this way and that way across the room, plucking something off a shelf to put it on the floor, vise versa, or throwing something into the fire. Occasionally he would turn and stare at them for a moment, silent, then resume what he was doing.

His hair was shock white but very dirty, thick, long, and frizzled. It stuck out from his head at odd and disturbing angles, knocking something over in his haste to move. He had a beard that, like his hair, was long, white, and dirty. Unlike his hair it was taken care of. It was shaped neatly, forking after his neck and gathered on each end with twine to keep it out of his way. His eyes were dark and erratic under his brow, going from one side of his skull to the other in rapid succession. His thin, claw like hands were sure and deft as they grasped objects though they had aged well past their prime. He was stooped over for reasons unknown for the ceiling of the cave was high above and there was nothing hanging down that would endanger him if he straightened.

Legolas shifted in his place, uneasy. On some level, he knew they could trust the Old Hermit. Yet with all the strange happenings of late he wished for some kind of normalcy in all this. And the Old Hermit was far from normal.

"Step long, step long, the a lot lot," the Old Hermit said, crouching down in front of them. He pulled the pot off the fire with his bare hands, the heated metal hissing at the contact yet the Old Hermit did not flinch. Dragging the pot to him, he laughed, "Oh, yes, yes, yes. Long steps, long steps indeed. Steps all over Earth, yes, yes. Ah," he paused, eyes widening and a grin forming under his beard as he peered into the boiling contents of the pot. He grasped the rim of the pot and carefully spun it around one way then the other, staring into it. "Ah, see, see, yes, Old One sees. Long steps, but longer more the one behind. Ohohoho, yes, much longer. And still willed, oh yes, closing in, the one behind closer now. Ah, the Bizarre one, good, good. Bizarre one closer than the Kin, yes, yes. Evil one, the Kin is, evil, evil." Here he closed his eyes and shook his head sadly.

Denya poked Darin in the side, raising an eyebrow in concern and confusion while looking pointedly over to the Old Hermit. Darin shrugged, helpless, and tapped his head.

"Serious talk to do, serious talk," the Old Hermit said with a 'humph.' He peered over at them, eyeing each in turn. He finally set his eyes on Darin, who met the scrutiny unblinkingly. Minutes ticked by as the two stared at each other in silent conversation. Then, with a bit of a snort, the Old Hermit broke his gaze away and turned to the pot. Easily lifting it with one hand, he raised it to his mouth and began to drink the scalding hot contents. Darin lowered his eyes to his hands, nostalgia playing at his features.

"Begging pardon," Auron spoke up, having grown both annoyed and tired of the silence, "but if you happen to know what is going on will you tell us? Hours ago we were just inside Rivendell territory but now we're in Mirkwood with no idea how that occurred and---"

"Eryn Lasgalen," the Hermit interrupted, lowering the pot long enough to speak and take a breath.

Auron frowned, not understanding.

"It is referred to as Eryn Lasgalen sometimes," Legolas explained.

"Anyway," Auron went on, "I think you can understand that we are confused and need to get back on the right track. We are expected in Rivendell and I daresay we will be sorely missed. Lord Elrond---"

"Will not even notice you being a few days late."

All eyes widened at the eloquent speech the Old Hermit used. His voice was stronger now, as if he was far younger than he appeared. He glanced at Legolas and Caled. "Besides, Elrond is not aware that you have started your return journey, nor that you are accompanied by the Thieves Guild." Here he snorted again, shoulders shaking in laughter. "Really now. 'Thieves Guild.' I could think of a few better names. But no matter. I am not one to hand out more sufficient handles for vagabonds. If you must know, I was the one who brought you all here."

"You?" Denya blurted, face twisted in a grimace of disbelief.

"Yes, me," the Old Hermit said, eyes shifting to her. "You of all should know never to trust what you see," he paused, eyes narrowing as if in thought, then, with deliberate emphasis, "Evan."

The color faded from Denya's face. Clad's head jerked, focusing on the Old Hermit. "How do you know that name?" Denya whispered through her teeth.

The Old Hermit laughed heartily. "You believe your past secret, but it is known to many, far and wide. Ah, to be young and ignorant again. Again, yes I brought you all here. Not a moment too soon. You were being followed. Yes, followed," he repeated to their surprised expressions. "I doubt you were even aware of it. The foul thing is very clever, very precise in its hunt. It really gave nothing of itself away, so do not feel too inadequate."

Shaking his head, he stood. Shuffling across the room to the other set of curtains, he called over his shoulder, "I have things to discuss with each of you privately. I will call when I am ready for you. Enter in whatever order you wish, I have no preference."

The curtains fell back into place once he went past them. Silence reigned for a long time.

"This is insane," Denya muttered.

"And yet makes so much sense," Tan scoffed.

"Who is he and what kind of magic does he use?" she directed to Darin. "Is he dumb or is he messing with us?"

Darin shook his head. "I have no idea; race, age, magic abilities or none---I do not know anything," he insisted. "He's always been like that. At least when I knew him. He never spoke properly unless he drank from that pot and even then he was still confusing."

"He does not care whether or not we understand him," Rali observed, "and yet he speaks as if we do."

"But can we trust him?" Caled asked. "Was there really something following us that we couldn't see?"

A crash from the other side of the curtain startled them. They heard a grumbling curse, then silence.

"He has never lied, in all my knowledge," Darin said at last to Caled.

"Yet the integrity of his words is debatable," Rali said. "His age alone would be a testament of that. It's possible that time has dampened his wits."

"I don't think so," Caled said, so quietly that no one heard her save Legolas. Catching his eye, she blushed and looked away.

It was close to an hour later when the Old Hermit called out, "Come in, one of you. Lots of talk, not lots of time, now."

They exchanged silent glances to one another, all of which were varying degrees of 'If you think I'm going in, you're crazy.' With a sigh, Darin stood and carefully walked to the curtains. Without pausing or looking back, he lifted the curtain and entered.

---

A familiar tingle ran down Darin's throat and into his lungs as he breathed in the fragrant smell in the room. It was coming from the herb mixtures the Old Hermit threw on the grouping of candles on one shelf, hiding the smell of the moss growing from the end of the cave where a small trickle of water fell.

The Old Hermit was sitting against the wall, a pile of cluttered junk on one side and a mug on the other, steaming with a brew that was no doubt like the contents of the boiling pot in the other room. He was flicking his hands through a small mound of jewels, raising one now and then to examine in the torchlight.

"It is good to see you again, Old Hermit," Darin said, kneeling down into a sitting position across from the Hermit.

The Old Hermit smiled through his beard, nodding. "Good to see Darin, good to see good health. So long," he added, raising an eyebrow.

Darin looked away. "I…I've been hiding from Thranduil," he said.

"Why?"

"He imprisoned me. He believes I killed my mother and father," Darin scowled, the thought still angering him.

The Old Hermit laughed, shaking his head. "Unthinkable. Unthinkable. And yet unavoidable. Guards fake, search fake. Fake ones wanted Darin in prison, could not have Darin leaving of free will. Not have Darin finding THEM." At the word 'them' the Old Hermit leaned forward and whispered it as if afraid of being overheard.

Darin frowned. "Someone did not want me meeting somebody?" he asked.

Nodding so vigorously it startled Darin, the Old Hermit said, "Yes, yes, Twisted one thinks he knows all. Thinks he can See. Ah, he cannot See Old One, no no." He laughed deeply, eyes shining with a mischievous glint. "No no, none can See as Old One Sees, not even Twisted one---especially not Twisted one."

"Who's this 'twisted one,' Old Hermit?" Darin asked next.

"One the Old One wishes that bats would nest in his stockings!" the ancient being suddenly said with a heated voice, spitting on the ground. Settling himself down, he gulped a bit of the mug's brew. "Why did you join the Thieves Guild, Darin?" he asked, voice once again noticeably stronger and younger.

"With them I can find my parent's killer and avenge them," Darin said firmly. "Denya is highly skilled in the Reapers' ways, she was tracking them since before I even knew of them. As long as I'm with her I have a chance of finding him."

The Old Hermit was silent before saying, "But what if you knew your path would cross with this Reaper eventually? Would you stay with the Guild?"

For a moment, Darin looked pensive. Then, "I would rather die than leave them."

The Old One smiled crookedly. "Why is that?"

Darin shrugged yet said, "I've spent a good portion of my life with them and I've enjoyed the time. Why leave them?"

"Even if you would never have the chance to kill this Reaper you seek?"

Darin thought for a long time. Finally he said simply, "I would not leave them."

The Old Hermit closed his eyes, a sigh passing by his crooked smile. "One last question, and do not answer if you cannot say so truthfully."

Darin nodded, straightening.

Looking at him straight in the eyes, the Old Hermit said, "How does the sunlight feel?"

Darin blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. Opening his mouth to reply, he was stopped with the Old Hermit quickly held up a hand. Darin closed his mouth, still puzzled. What kind of question was that? What sort of answer was the Old Hermit looking for?

"When we meet again, you will have the answer." He motioned to the curtains with his head, a sign of dismissal.

Darin rose, pulling his cloak around him. He knew the Old Hermit meant no offense, but still, what sort of question was that to ask?

---

Rali frowned, trying to find an area large enough to sit down without crushing something. Seeing his hesitance, the Older Hermit laughed, kicking several things out of the larger being's way. "Old trinkets, little worth," he said, waving off the damaged things.

"If you say so," Rali said, shaking his head.

The Old Hermit chuckled, studying Rali closely. "Such an odd fellow, if I may say so."

Rali chuckled as well. "Yes, yes I am. Not many like me in the world."

The Old One nodded. "To be sure, to be sure. Elf and Dwarf?" At his nod, the Old Hermit stroked his beard, still studying Rali. "A hard life?"

Rali shrugged. "It could have been harder; though I'm not wishing it were so."

The Old One was still, then, "Separated from a loved one?"

Rali slowly shook his head, rusty brown hair falling into his eyes. Pushing it back, he said, "I left of my own will and told her to stay. Besides, she wasn't really a loved one. She was just the only one I've met that didn't care much that I was different."

A deep smile cracked the whiteness of the beard. "A wise child. Wise and special. She will be something one day."

"She already is something," Rali said quietly, idly touching the medallion hanging around his neck and remembering Leanne.

"And shall blossom into something great," the Old Hermit sighed. "Tell me about her. And the village she lived in."

Rali did, spending more time on Leanne than the village. In reality most of his memories of the village itself were faded yet every one of Leanne was as sharp as his ax blade. He recounted the 'adventures' she demanded he take her on in the woods in the village, where they were more likely to run into a farmer's pig than a wild animal. He spoke of the times she came to his house, looking as if she had been in a fight---which she had. Local boys would speak poorly of him, namely of his bloodline, and enrage the young girl so much that it took several adults to restrain her from the offending lads. He recollected the days she would help him do chores around his house, asking for an old song in return for her services. He recalled the way she would sing the old songs back to him, grinning at his praise.

When he was done, the Old Hermit was smiling softly as if he was remembering some long ago memory. "A sweet child."

Rali nodded.

"Have you heard from her?"

Rali stared at his hands. "No."

The Old Hermit studied him. "Are they mended?"

Rali blinked, looking back up. "I'm sorry. What?"

The Old Hermit was still, as if moving would break him. "Are they mended?" he asked again.

"I do not understand," Rali said after trying to figure out what he was being asked.

The Old Hermit closed his eyes. "You will. You will," he said quietly.

---

Anex knelt on the floor, removing his sword and laying it between himself and the Old Hermit. The Old One lowered the mug he had been drinking from, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "You trust me enough to separate yourself from your sword?"

"I am never truly separated from it," Anex replied. "But yes, I do trust you. Already two of my company have entered this room and left unharmed, as far as I could see. What reasons have I to not trust you?"

"The fact that I moved you hundreds of miles overnight."

"But you did so to protect us. Am I wrong?"

The Old Hermit laughed. "Ah, you are quite amusing, Anex. You display trust then question it. Amusing."

"I have been called that, yes."

The Old Hermit laughter died away slowly. He looked at Anex seriously, almost gravely. "You have been called many things," he said, voice remorseful.

"That I have," Anex replied, unfazed.

"Why?"

"Because I have deceived a great number of people. Because I am an Avari. Because I belong to the Thieves Guild. There are several reasons for every name I am called," he said, shrugging.

The Old Hermit shook his head. "That was not what I was referring to," he spoke softly.

"Pardon?"

"No matter," the Old One perked up, smiling. "Tell me of your travels. It has been many years since I journeyed to the east."

Though they talked long and of many things, often Anex heard the Old Hermit whisper the same question. 'Why?' For the life of him, the Avari did not know what it meant.

---

Aurora looked around as she seated herself, intrigued by the myriad of things on the shelves.

"Such a vision," the Old Hermit said, inclining his head to her.

She flushed. "You're too kind."

The Old One studied her, his gaze friendly. "Do you remember your mother?" he asked.

Aurora shook her head. "No, I was an infant when she passed on. Father and Auron often spoke of her, but I don't have any actually memories of her."

"So then, Auron is your elder brother?" the Old One asked slowly, as if trying to remember it.

"Yes, by several years," Aurora replied.

"Hmm," the Old One said, looking thoughtful. "Who told you this?"

Aurora frowned yet said, "Both Auron and my father. Why do you ask?"

"One as old as I can have holes in their head," he said, but Aurora could have sworn he was avoiding her question. "Tell me of your days," he said politely.

Pushing her suspicions aside, Aurora told as much as the Old Hermit wanted to know. When she spoke of the village they had twice come upon and finding it had been founded by Sarah and her family, he clapped and laughed deeply. He marveled at the painting when she showed it to him, saying the girl had been quite talented even at such a young age. He was greatly interested in her medical knowledge and soon they were swapping remedies and cures as if they were dinner recipes.

As she jotted down a quite note on an antidote for dragon poison---a very rare yet highly dangerous affliction just the same---the old Hermit stared hard into his mug. "That is all I have time for," he said. "I ask that you take your leave and take your beauty with you, though I shall miss it."

Aurora flushed again, standing. As she reached the curtains, she thought she heard him say, "Are you certain of the birth order?" Yet when she looked over her shoulder at him, he was turned to a pile of things, muttering to himself and shifting through the pile.

---

Auron walked in, head high yet with a wary glare set in place.

The Old Hermit smiled, inclining his head respectfully. "No weapons on my person, I assure you," he said, raising his hands and spreading them out.

"Weapons are of no concern of mine," Auron said as he sat down. "Your other abilities are what concern me."

The Old Hermit chuckled. "True, true. From one sorcerer to another: never trust someone if you can't imitate their spells," he advised.

"A wise code to live by," Auron commented.

The Old One nodded, looking as if he had been waiting for Auron to say that. "Yes, a wise code. And what code do you live by, Sir Auron?"

"My own," Auron replied, jaw tightened.

An eyebrow was raised. "No other will do?"

"No other has proven to be just in my eyes," Auron said. "Whether or not you've believed in something or someone all your life, a moment's doubt or pain can break your will, make you a puppet to fear and hate." He shrugged. "So why play by their rules when they break them?"

The Old Hermit smiled crookedly. "Why indeed, Sir Auron? Why play by broken rules? Why indeed? Can you answer me that?"

---

Denya scowled furiously, refusing to sit. "Get it over with," she snapped at the Old Hermit.

Instead of quaking or even acting remotely intimidated, the Old Hermit laughed to himself. "Such spirit, so spirited."

"I've been told such," Denya commented dryly.

The Old Hermit cocked his head to the side. "Then I shall get to the point. I have a question for you, dear Evan."

"My name is Denya!" the blue-black haired Elf shouted, eyes blazing.

The Old Hermit remained passive. "Repetition of a thing cannot make it so," he said calmly. "I can say 'I am a toad' a hundred times every day for a century and I will remain as I am."

"You certainly look like one," Denya spat.

The Old Hermit chuckled again. "And yet I am the same as I was born. I can never change what I was born into. I cannot change those whom I am related to."

Denya twitched, hand reflexively going to a dagger. She steeled herself against the temptation and instead turned on her heel. She reached out to grab the curtain and throw it out of her way.

"Does it still bloom, I wonder?"

Denya stopped. She looked back at the Old Hermit over her shoulder. "What are you talking about?" she said.

The Old Hermit shrugged, looking through the nick knacks in front of him. "I am just wondering whether or not it still blooms. Whether or not it's still alive." He raised his black eyes, fixing her with a gaze so intense it sent a shiver of fear down Denya's spine. "Whether or not the source of your oath remains as you last saw. I wonder…… Does it still bloom?"

---

Clad had been sitting there about several minutes, neither he nor the Old Hermit speaking. They simply stared at each other, seeming to converse without speaking. At times, under his hood, Clad's face would tighten in a grimace as if he were in pain then relax into a blank expression.

Finally the Old Hermit broke his gaze and turned to the mug in his hands. "A hard life," he breathed with a touch of sorrow.

Clad's head nodded shortly.

"Yet not without pleasant memories, I see," the Hermit said, eyes going to the curtain. It was obvious to the Half-Berserker that he was referring to Denya.

Another nod.

"What would have happened if she had said no?"

Clad's already stiff posture became frozen. Through the fringe of his red hair, a flash of black light caught the Old Hermit's eyes.

The Old Hermit gave a mirthless laugh. "Yes, life would have been different. But one can't help but think it might have been for the better." His black eyes bore into Clad. "Am I right? Do you not wonder about that as well?"

Clad's teeth ground together.

Yet he did not reply.

---

Dias entered the room, looking around with far more interest at the odd collection of items that the others before had done. He was itching to examine several of the things in the room yet contained himself as he sat down.

"Hail, great sorcerer," the Old Hermit said with a large smile.

Dias waved his hand modestly. "Please, I am nothing, certainly not a 'great sorcerer.'"

The Old Hermit's smile turned into a frown. "Are you not a pupil of the Lady Galadriel?"

Dias shifted uncomfortably. "Once upon a time, yes, I was," he said heavily. "But now I am no longer her student. I am forbidden to enter the Golden Wood."

"A hard punishment," the Old One commented gently. "And yet if you had not been banished, you might never have been the Lady Aurora."

Dias looked up, mildly confused. "That might be so. But Lady Galadriel herself said that I would happen upon her and the others had I not gone against her will."

The Old Hermit watched him closely as he spoke. "She said you would meet her. Did she say your relationship would be the same?"

Darin frowned. "I do not understand."

With a sigh, the Old One looked down. "No. No you do not."

---

Tan sat with neither the same ease nor defiance as the others. He was accustomed to strange things and frankly being relocated overnight and suddenly introduced to a strange old creature was not at the top of his list of 'things I need to be wary of.' He was curious of what was going on, more so of the Old Hermit himself.

The Old Hermit, however, was very different from when he had been on the other side of the curtain. He had been fidgety to Tan's eyes, always moving. Yet now he was still, too still for Tan's comfort. Something was about to happen, Tan knew that. What it was he had no clue.

Still, alarms were going off in the back of his head.

"Tan, is it?" the Old Hermit said as the Elf sat down. At the Elf's nod, he went on, "I am told you are a relatively knew addition to the Thieves Guild. Is that right?"

"Yes," Tan replied. "Dias and I were initiated quite recently."

"What did you do before that? Where did you live?"

At that question, Tan looked away. He forced his mind away from the answers it brought up. Images he had been trying to forget for years.

Images that still haunted him.

"Far away," Tan said when he realized the Hermit was waiting for an answer.

"What region?" the Old One pressed.

"I am not sure," Tan replied, too quickly he realized after he said it. "It's been a while since I was last there and I'm not certain if they've renamed the area."

The Old Hermit studied him for a second, and then said, "Judging from your looks, I would say you hail from the north."

Tan refused to look at him as he said, "You could say that, yes."

The Old One studied him still. Then, silently, he stood and scuttled over to the far corner of the cave. He rummaged through the piles of junk, pausing momentarily to look back and make sure Tan was still there. Then, he straightened slightly and made his way back. He was carrying a long bundle wrapped in a cloth that was stained with blood. It looked very, very old.

A strange, musty scent emitted from the bundle. It was mingled with the smell of aged blood yet Tan knew that scent.

The alarms in his head were reaching a deafening pitch.

"Why did you leave your home?" the Old Hermit asked as he sat back down. If he noticed Tan's growing agitation he was ignoring it.

"Reasons of my own," Tan said hurriedly. His eyes were on the bundle, wary.

The Old Hermit studied him for a moment longer. Then, slowly, he shifted the bundle in his aged hands. He began to unwrap the cloth.

Tan's breathing increased, the musty smell growing stronger with each layer of cloth removed. His heart thudded in his chest painfully.

When the last layer fell away, the Old Hermit held the sheathed sword in his hands out towards Tan as if to show it to him. "This was given to me---payment for a night's shelter---by a man who had passed through the North."

Tan appeared not to have heard him. His eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly at the sword.

The Old One then began to remove the casting covering the hilt of the sword. As the fire light caught the silver and dark blue jewels it was adorned with, Tan's hands, once clenched tightly into fists, shook as tremors ran through him.

In his mind, the same cursed image flashed every time a jewel on the hilt caught the light. A face looking up at him. Those eyes……those eyes that haunted his nightmares. Eyes the same color as those jewels.

"Put it away," Tan said hoarsely.

The Old Hermit stopped as he had been about to take the sword out of the scabbard. "Something wrong?" he asked pleasantly.

"Put it away," Tan said again, the fear and pain in his voice evident.

His black gaze firmly on the trembling Elf, the Old Hermit suddenly drew the sword forth. "Why don't you take it, Sir Tan?" he asked.

As the Runes running down the blade shone in the light, Tan froze. The blade was perfectly clean, shining as if the Hermit polished it daily.

But Tan did not see it as such.

He saw the blood that had soaked the blade. He saw the blood that had been trapped in the Runes, glaring at him through the sword's beauty. He saw it, as he did late at night in his nightmare; he saw the end of the sword pass through flesh, so frail and weak. Her flesh. Her blood.

And he saw his own hand on the hilt, stained with her blood.

---

"NO!"

Everyone jerked out of their stupors. It had been only a few minutes since Tan had walked through the curtains, those who had gone before sitting by themselves and stewing over whatever the Old Hermit had said. Caled had been dozing lightly, Mornie awake yet silent on her arm. Legolas had been sitting near her, silently pondering what was going on.

At the scream, several of them jumped to their feet. Denya grabbed a handful of daggers and started towards the curtain. Auron pulled his sword out of the sheath. Dias raised his staff, the tip glowing.

Yet before they could do anything, Tan tore through the curtain. He was scrambling backwards and in his haste to get away knocked over several things, finally tripping and falling to the ground. He was screaming, wordless expressions of horror.

The Old Hermit pushed back the curtain, black eyes genuinely curious and concerned. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Stay away!" Denya shouted, glaring at the Hermit before going to Tan's side. She checked him for any injuries and seemed annoyed when she found nothing. Yet as she straightened away, Tan's hand reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. Seeing his wide eyed terror, Denya knelt beside him, drawing her arms around him to offer comfort. Tan clung to her, his screaming dying to feeble mutterings.

"What did you do to him?" Caled demanded, red eyes blazing at the Old Hermit.

"I asked a question, as I did with those before," the Old Hermit said, shrugging. "It is not my fault he could not handle it."

"You're insane," Denya growled.

The Old Hermit laughed, amused. "Aren't we all?" he said before turning and going back into the curtained room. "Two left, I believe. Come now, let's us resume."

"Don't go in," Denya said, turning to Legolas and Caled. "This is getting out of hand."

"He's just going to talk to them," Darin countered.

"Just like he talked to Tan?" Denya shot back.

"They are armed, they can handle it," Anex said firmly.

Denya snarled yet said nothing.

Legolas and Caled looked at each other. "I'll go," Caled said before Legolas could. At his worried frown, she smiled reassuringly. She handed Mornie to him then, placing her whip in an accessible location, then passed through the curtains.

---

Caled hesitated before she sat down. She could still hear Tan's pitiful cries and it unnerved her. What had happened to him?

The Old Hermit cleared his throat to catch her attention. He smiled at her, taking a long gulp from his mug. "It has been a long time since I last saw one of the Shadow Elves."

Caled looked away. "We keep to ourselves," she said simply.

The Old Hermit raised an eyebrow. "And yet here I see a unique Shadow Elf traveling with a band of Elves. Well, mostly Elves, some Half," he added as an afterthought.

Caled's eyes widened a touch. He knew she was a hybrid?

The Old Hermit went on. "I shall not ask of the events leading to this choice of traveling companions. I daresay it is quite private." At her polite nod, he said, "Not only do you have strange companions, you have stranger things hounding you."

"The thing you said was following us?" Caled asked. "What is it? What's following us?"

A pause then, "You know what it is. The question, milady, is 'who.'"

Caled frowned, not understanding.

"You know what is following you," the Old Hermit repeated. "Don't you?"

"A Reaper?" Caled suggested.

The Old One nodded. "Yes, a Reaper is following you. You in particular."

Caled froze, shocked. "Why me? Why are they after me?"

The Hermit shook his head quickly. "No, no, no. Don't focus on the trivial things. The 'why' and the 'what' are of no matter. It is fact the Reapers want you---filthy leeches, may they rot in their own Nest---and as to why, well, they have reasons for doing unspeakable things. I cannot say why they want you. But," here the Old Hermit's face softened and Caled thought she saw pity in his black eyes, "the question you should be asking is 'who.' Who is following you?"

---

At last Legolas entered the room. He was calm yet alert as he sat where the Old Hermit indicated. Caled had left moments before, neither in terror or excitement. She was noticeably quieter though, pensive.

The Old One was rocking side to side, a smile showing through his long beard. "Welcome, Prince of this land," he greeted.

Legolas inclined his head, not too sure how to respond.

"Has it been long since you last saw your homeland?" the Old One asked.

"It had been a while, yes," Legolas said.

"Do you miss it?"

Legolas gave a half-shrug. "My original purpose for setting out on a journey was to get away from my home. To find something I had no idea I was missing."

The Hermit chuckled. "Perhaps you were missing the travels you once had."

Legolas smiled a little at that, remembering that Gandalf had said the same thing. Had it really been so long ago?

"And now that you have traveled, will you return to your home after seeing Lord Elrond?"

Legolas was silent, thinking. Then, "I cannot say for certain. These Reapers must be dealt with. I will present the situation to Lord Elrond and Gandalf and ask for their advice. But I can say now that I wish to rid Middle-Earth of those things before I journey to the Grey Havens."

The Old Hermit gave him a crooked grin. "Well spoken. But---if I may be so bold as to ask?---what of the Lady? What will you do concerning her?"

Legolas stopped, surprised. "Do you mean Caled?"

The Hermit nodded. "When you cross over, what will happen to her?"

"I……I do not know," Legolas said slowly.

A look of sorrow crossed the Old Hermit's face. He lowered his head and said quietly, "That is all. You may go."

---

White on black eyes stared at the area in surprise. Moments before it had contained the ones she was tracking yet now it was empty. Her talents did not deceive her: the trail led to this spot then suddenly ended. They had not gone back, they had not gone forward. It was as if they had disappeared into thin air.

No matter. Steeling herself against the fear welling inside her, she turned and burrowed into the shadows. She knew where they were headed. She knew their destination.

Whatever detour they had taken, Na'Tath would wait. She would bide her time, she would heal, she would wait.

It was all she had left.

----------


	32. Chpt XXVI: Reprise

Chapter Twenty Six - Reprise

The rain was still falling when Legolas made his way to the front of the cave. He stopped just short of the point that the rain reached, leaning against the smoothed rock wall.

By his reckoning, it had been a few hours since they had awoke in Mirkwood. Since he had left the presence of the Old Hermit, the ancient being had yet to exit the sectioned off area. The sounds of objects being removed from their resting places as well as his sometimes loud mutterings was a constant reminder that the Old Hermit was still there. At Darin's simple but firm request they had decided to wait until the Old One came out. Denya, as well as a few of the others, had argued but a short word from Auron had silenced them. They now waited.

Tan had seemed to regain his composure. He was no longer shaking and his eyes had lost the look of terror they had held. He refused to say what had happened, he repeated that it had been private and did not wish to dwell on it. Other than that, he had not spoken.

"This is insane," Legolas muttered to himself. He laughed after he realized that he had sounded just like Denya.

Yet as insane and puzzling as the whole ordeal had been, he could not deny that some part of him was glad for it. It meant their arrival in Rivendell would be postponed for a while. In reality, a long while since they may have to travel back down to the Elven city.

And that meant he could remain with Caled.

He did not want to admit it, but the Old Hermit's question had shaken Legolas. What would become of Caled after everything was said and done? Did she share his desire to eradicate the Reapers? Would she want to assist him in doing so?

What would become of her when he crossed over to the Gray Havens?

As he reached that thought, Legolas sighed, silently scolding himself. It should not concern him what happened to her. Who was he to even think about it?

Just one who loved her.

Another thing: she may not return his love.

But what if she did?

Legolas closed his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt the beginnings of a self-induced headache. He was beginning to tire of this; ever since they had left Mount Gundabad he had gone through the same cycle of questions and always ended with the same conclusion: a headache.

"It'll stop if I just mind my own business," he told himself.

A soft laugh behind him made him stop and turn around.

Caled stood just feet from him, her eyes quickly looking out at the falling rain---the Elf was sure that they had been on him just seconds before. She was flushing slightly, as if embarrassed at being caught laughing at him. "Worried about something?" she asked, slowly stepping up beside him.

"Something I should not dwell on," Legolas replied, waving his hand airily. "It is none of my business."

"Trying to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" Her words swiftly lost the sharp edge they had when she stuck her tongue out at him.

Her immature display brought a smile to Legolas' face. "I know better than to do that," he retorted. "You, on the other hand, are another story."

Caled frowned yet her eyes sparkled with mirth. "How so, O wise one?"

"Give me a minute and I shall remember."

Caled scoffed, turning and shaking her head. "Dodging questions with accusations is no way to live," she tutted.

"I'll remember that next time you do so," Legolas said, smirking at the flustered glare she threw at him.

For several moments they glared at one another, silent. Then the cave rang with their laughter as the two realized how childish they were behaving.

Caled slowed her laughter, stooping to the cave floor. She was still smiling, her red eyes twinkling in the dim light as she watched the rain fall. "That was a pleasant change," she said, almost to herself.

"What was?" Legolas said, frowning a bit. He stooped as well so that they were level.

Again, she flushed. She fiddled with the red jeweled dagger---the only one left of the Jui-Pahl they had, the rest given to the Shadow Elves---absently scratching the ground. "It was……it was nice," she said haltingly, as if she was embarrassed. "Nice to…to laugh for a change. You know, instead of shouting," she added, not looking at him.

Legolas chuckled, nodding. "Yes. We've had our fair share of shouting matches," he commented. Her blush deepened. The Wood Elf wondered fleetingly what she was thinking and why it caused her to blush so quickly. He would never say it to her, but he often thought of how stunning she looked with her cheeks aflame, though it was usually in anger. "It was nice to laugh," he said.

His soft voice made her glance at him. Her eyes flickered from concern to wonder, her gaze moving over him. "I prefer it," she said quietly.

"I as well," he replied.

Her mouth tipped in a half-smile. She picked up a small stone, tossing it up in the air. She followed its descent, silent. Then she threw it out the cave, mentally marking where it landed. She picked up another and pulled her hand back to throw it.

Caled stopped so suddenly, Legolas was alarmed. Her face paled and she fell back. "R-Reaper!" she stammered, pointing to the mouth of the cave.

Legolas whirled around; thankful he had brought his bow and quiver. He loaded two arrows and raised the bow, eyes snapping around to find the Reaper.

Through the thick sheets of rain and the dark shadows, a black form was visible directly ahead of them. Blue eyes flashed, highlighting the thin face as its mouth curled back from its sharp teeth. It gave a shriek and lurched forward.

Legolas felt something in him shift, a feeling he had not felt in months. Before it could take affect, he fired the arrows. He saw his weapon strike its mark, both of the Reaper's eyes were punctured and it fell back, and he heard Caled's startled exclamation.

Then the rush like flood waters breaking through a dam swept over him. The real world faded and the visions took hold of his mind.

_:a Reaper burst through the foliage, sharp claws outstretched, it sailed over his head, landing in front of another Reaper behind him:_

"……_been killed before you hatched! You worthless dufa'ga, I'll take that……"_

_:a Reaper with black and silver hair loomed over him, his throat constricted in its tight grasp, a knife glinted in its other hand:_

"……_driven very far down. I have to do this now or he will be……"_

_:the same Reaper, sitting on the ground, snow falling all around them, laughter came from a group of children playing not far off:_

"……_he understand? I'm not the same, Legolas, I never will be…"_

_:a semi-dark room, a dungeon of sorts, Caled chained to the wall across from him, she was looking at him with vacant eyes:_

"……_her. She was as she was born to be, nothing but an empty killer---YOUR killer, Legolas…"_

A sharp pain in his head jerked him out of the vision. Legolas gasped, breathing deep.

"Elf! What happened?" Caled was beside him, leaning over him.

Somehow he had fallen backwards and his head had hit the ground. He sat up, rubbing the throbbing knot on the back of his head. "Fine," he said to Caled. "Fine. Just had---" He broke off.

Caled had never met the fortune teller, nor did she know about the visions Meryl had given him. Several of the visions he had seen contained images of her, either dead or very close to it. Legolas shivered unconsciously. He did not want Caled to know.

"Had a dizzy spell," Legolas told her, seeing she was waiting for an answer.

Caled cocked an eyebrow, suspicious. She rolled her eyes and sat down. "You worry me sometimes," she snorted.

Legolas just shrugged, grinning at the glare she threw him. He looked out the mouth of the cave and was relieved to see that the body of the Reaper had vanished. He did not know what he would have done if it had survived it. He sighed, lowering his hand to support his weight as he leaned back.

Then he noticed how close they were.

Instantly, it seemed, they both tensed. They were just scant inches apart, side by side. Yet neither moved away. The blush returned to Caled's face and she quickly looked back out of the cave.

Minutes ticked by, neither speaking nor moving. They were so preoccupied by trying to appear nonchalant with the proximity of each other that they did not sense Aurora peeking out of the curtain. She had heard Caled's shouts as well as the sound of Legolas firing his bow and had grown worried. Now she was giggling to herself, ecstatic. She backed away quietly and there after set herself up to guard the curtain in order to give the two some much deserved privacy.

"What did the Hermit say?" Caled asked quite suddenly.

Legolas, who had until then been enjoying the closeness as well as the comfortable silence, was surprised. He glanced at her to see she had drawn her knees up and was hugging them to her chest. Her head rested on her knees, turned so she could see him. "He asked why I was traveling," Legolas said slowly, trying to decide how much to say. "Why I had left Mirkwood in the first place."

"Did he ask you anything?" Caled asked next.

Legolas broke his gaze away, unable to look at her as he said, "He wanted to know what I planned to do after we returned to Rivendell."

"What was your answer?"

Though he noticed the slight shake in her voice, Legolas resisted the urge to look at her. "That I'm not certain," he said quietly. Whatever he did decide to do, the Elf knew he could not ask Caled to go with him. He refused to force his will or even his own feelings on her. "What did he say to you?" he asked, hoping she would not press him further.

At this, Caled's eyes flashed with pain. She quickly turned her head back around. "Things I don't I will ever understand," she whispered. The ache in her words caused Legolas' heart to twinge in sympathy.

Unable to stop himself, Legolas lifted his arm and softly draped it over her shoulders, hoping to offer some comfort. For a second, Caled tensed and panic started to sweep through him.

Then she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"The world's been turned upside down ever since I left Rivendell," Caled said with a chuckle. She then shrugged, "But I'm still alive and kicking, so I guess it can't be all that bad."

"Nothing's quite so bad if you've got company to share it with," Legolas replied, grinning when she rolled her eyes.

"And you're the perfect company," Caled drawled. The smile still remained on her face.

---

They made quite the pair, really. It was heartwarming to watch them. As old and cynical as he had grown over the eons, nothing made him smile more than the sight before him.

And yet the half-living abomination was trying to destroy it.

The Old Hermit closed his black eyes, feeling his age creep into his bones. It was not the first time he had felt this old since bringing them to him. He had felt it when he saw Darin again, now aged past even his father's prime, no longer the wide eyed young boy who had been so full of questions and curiosities. He was now hardened, angry, and, though he did not wish to admit it, the Old Hermit had felt the cold thirst for blood within him.

He had felt it within all of them, especially the one named Clad. Part of it was due to his Berserker heritage, yet the Hermit knew that this was a different kind of thirst, one that would only be quenched by death.

Yet even that had not been a shock. No. The one that really made him stop---the reason he was still behind those god awful curtains and brewing his own herbs and potions---had been the Northern Elf.

Tan. Not even he could guess what lay in his own soul. He couldn't begin to fathom the things the Old Hermit saw there. It really had been a shock. There was no blood lust in Tan. All that was there was a cold feeling of solitude, confusion, and anguish.

Just the thought of the pain in that poor Elf's eyes when he saw the sword made the Hermit redouble his efforts. He longed so to tell what had happened, what the sword had shown him, what the Reapers had done, why they had done such a horrible thing to the Northern Elf. Yet he kept his words to himself.

The Line was clear, clearer than ever he had seen before. It told the Hermit that the best outcome was only possible if the Elf---if all of them---answered on their own.

Yet that knowledge came at a heavy price.

---

Denya stared into the small fire Darin had made. For once in her life, she was doing as the Wood Elf told her: she sat and stayed quiet.

Still, Aurora noted the stiffness in her posture that gave the blue haired Elf away. Just moments ago she had roughly thrown her wooden figure into her bag, hands shaking too much to work on it properly. If it had been under any other circumstances, Aurora would have remarked that Denya was acting like a pouting child.

With a mental shrug the Half-Elf looked away from her friend. Taking into consideration all that had happened within the past few hours, Aurora had to admit that things could be worse. They could be dead or injured or surrounded by thousands of Reapers or even separated from one another. So they should be thankful that they were simply misplaced.

_Yeah. Right._

She glanced over at the curtains, willing the Hermit to come through. The Old One was certainly odd, as Rali had said. No doubt he was just a bit confused in the head.

But how much was confusion and how much was wisdom?

Beside her, Dias shifted in his sleep, mumbling. A smile touched Aurora's face as she gazed at her lover. She brushed a hand through his white hair, losing herself in thought. No matter the situation, she always found comfort in Dias' presence.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, causing Aurora to look up.

The Old Hermit stood beside the curtains, surveying the room with a neutral gaze. "Two missing?" he inquired, a brow rising in question.

"Caled. Legolas," Aurora called through the curtain leading to the outside. She heard the two scuffling, hastily separating from each other less she see. The Half-Elf could not contain her grin as both of them entered the room. They were deliberately avoiding the other's gaze.

Once all were assembled---and awake as Aurora had prodded Dias into the land of the living---the Hermit rolled his head this way and that, studying each of them as he spoke. "Words needed, words spoken. Old One's business is done, done for time, yes, yes. Young One's own time short, short. Need to be there, not here, but there."

"We may leave?" Darin ventured. Like the others, he was beginning to wish the Hermit would drink his foul brew and save them the trouble of having to decipher his meaning.

The Hermit nodded, smiling into his beard. "After long sleep, long steps will reclaim. Oh yes, Old One wrongs the right he made. Ohoho, yes." He nodded expectantly, motioning to the room at large.

After exchanging glances, Auron said, "So---we're to go to sleep, and when we wake we shall be as we were?"

Again the Hermit nodded. "Sleep well, sleep long. Long steps ahead, oh long long steps. Need sleep. He won't give you rest later, need sleep now, yes."

"All right, all ready," Denya muttered darkly, glaring at the Hermit. She tore open her bag, retrieved a blanket to cover herself, and rolled over in a huff. "The sooner we sleep, the sooner we can be rid of this idiot."

The Hermit took no offense at this, or at least did not appear to.

---

True to his word, as they awoke, they found themselves back as they had been the night before. In the exact same spot even.

After a quick breakfast, which Aurora insisted everyone eat triple helpings of, they broke camp and once more began the way to Rivendell. No one spoke, each occupied with their own thoughts. The Bruien flowed beside them, the marker for their trail. Occasionally Denya would pause and gaze into the waters. Clad as well stopped a handful of times. The two walked closer together, silently conversing in their way.

Just before sunset, a glimmer of white flickered on the trail a head of them. When she saw this, Caled smiled and waved energetically. "Gandalf!" she called.

With a clatter of hooves on the ground, Gandalf came into focus ahead, astride Shadowfax. He raised his staff in greeting, Shadowfax slowing his speed without needing to be told. "Caled!" he chuckled, getting to his feet and opening his arms as Caled rushed at him in a fierce embrace. "It is good to see you at last, my dear. Lord Elrond and I were beginning to worry." Caled leaned back, smiling at the Wizard. When she did not give any displeasure at hearing the Elf Lord's name, Gandalf's smile deepened. "In better spirits than when you left, eh?" he inquired quietly.

A slight flush colored her cheeks. "I had help," Caled said, turning to look at the others as they gathered.

Auron clasped hand with Gandalf, shaking his head. "It has been too long, Gandalf," he said. "Far too long if I am right in hearing you have changed your name. The White?"

Gandalf let out a deep laugh. "Indeed, old friend."

Once everyone had greeted the Wizard, he turned to Legolas and Caled. "You reached Mount Gundabad, I take it? Good," he said at their nod. "Tonight you shall both rest. Tomorrow your travels will be accounted." He glanced at the Guild, hesitantly. "What shall your course of action be?"

Legolas and Caled both blinked, startled. They had come to it at last.

Auron's mouth tightened grimly. "We will wait until night tomorrow to hear what will happen to you both," he addressed Legolas and Caled. "If you can, meet us here when you are able to."

"Can't you come with us---" Caled started. A sharp look from Gandalf stopped her. She frowned. Then her eyes widened, falling on Denya in understanding.

The blue-haired Elf stood with her back towards them. She had greeted Gandalf with as much enthusiasm as any of them, nearly ripping the Wizard's robes in her haste to hug him. Now she was rigid, arms crossed and breathing slow and deep as if to calm herself.

"We will meet you here," Legolas agreed, avoiding looking at Denya's back.

"Good luck," Aurora said, trying to force a cheerful note into her voice.

Caled nodded, turning to follow Gandalf. Legolas paused, opening his mouth to speak. Yet whatever it was he was about to say was lost. He closed his mouth and turned as well. After they had gone a few yards, he looked over his shoulder.

All he saw an empty clearing with a single dagger sticking out of the ground.

----------

A. N. -- And we're back! All chapters have been updated and intensively reworked. Well worth your time to reread them.

---Kaze no Tenshi


	33. Chpt XXVII: Half Circle: 1

A. N. --- SAP AHEAD!(grins) At least what I count as sap.

---

Chapter Twenty Seven - Half Circle: 1

Legolas was almost certain that their return would be met with a large feast in their honor. Yet the subdued atmosphere of the Last Homely House was far from what he expected---though it was not disagreeable. He and Caled were tired, from both travel and worry.

He unconsciously turned his head, looking over the grounds as Gandalf led them to Elrond's study. He could not help but wonder where the Thieves Guild had hidden themselves. No doubt they were watching the dwelling for the littlest sign of a disturbance, silent yet effective.

The image of Denya flashed in his mind. Silent, obstinate, yet at the same time pained. He hoped when they met the following night her temperament improved with a day's rest.

He hoped, but doubted it.

Gandalf opened the study's doors, ushering the pair in. Elrond looked up from his place beside a map strewn table. His eyebrows rose in surprise at seeing the two of them.

"Back from nearly a year's travel," Gandalf said to the Elf Lord. He smiled at Legolas then Caled.

"You've reached Mount Gundabad?" Elrond asked.

"We have, Lord Elrond. And we have much to tell." Legolas was surprised to hear Caled speaking civilly to the Elf Lord.

Apparently Elrond was equally amazed. He stared at her with a look that stated he believed she was under a spell. "Do---you?" he said haltingly.

Caled nodded. The corners of her mouth were twitching, suppressing a smile.

Elrond looked from Legolas to Gandalf, expecting an explanation for the girl's behavior. Receiving none, he said, "Though I am eager to hear all of it, we shall wait for tomorrow." He glanced over their worn appearance. "Rest tonight. Send me word when you are ready."

The two agreed and departed, following a pair of servants to the rooms prepared for them. Once the echoes of their footsteps died away, Elrond turned to Gandalf. The Elf Lord's astonishment was plain on his face.

"Not one sneer. Not one jibe. She actually looked me in the eye and smiled. What on earth transpired to change her so?" Elrond wondered.

Gandalf chuckled. "As I said before they departed, Legolas was the only one fit to be her companion on this journey."

Elrond shook his head. "Amazing." After a moment's pause he then said, "Do you believe they have the solution to the Orc problem?"

Gandalf sighed, eyes closing briefly. "Elrond. In all honesty, I think their tale will complicate it."

---

Caled sighed, sinking into the hot bath. She vigorously scrubbed the grime off her body then washed and rewashed her long hair. It had been so long since she had last had a decent bath. You could clean yourself in lakes and streams only so well, not nearly enough for her liking. The last time she ended up dirtier than before due to Denya and Aurora deciding that a brief yet hilarious mud slinging fight was more fun.

Caled frowned, forcing her body to relax. She found it odd that she was worried about them. She knew they would keep themselves safe. She had no doubt that they would not leave before speaking with her and Legolas first. Yet she _was_ worried.

Exactly what of, she was uncertain.

With another sigh, Caled rinsed her hair and pulled the drain on the tub. She grabbed the soft towels stacked nearby and dried off. She had just secured one around her body and reached for the door that lead back into the bedroom when Mornie's voice spoke to her.

**_i would not walk out just yet._**

Caled stopped. "Why not?"

Mornie did not reply. Yet someone did.

"It's me."

_Elf._

Caled felt her face flame. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I just---I was---"

"Oh, never mind. Turn away or I'll cremate you," Caled ordered, waiting a moment before storming through the door. She had an inkling of the reason he had come. Truth be told, she had been contemplating seeking him out as well.

Legolas was standing on the other side of the room, facing the door with his hands up to cover his eyes. Caled found amusement in the way he had so quickly obeyed.

Mornie dragged her pack over to her. All of her garments had been washed and folded, resting atop the bag. She retrieved a thick woolen tunic and quickly donned it, thankful that the servants had patched the few nicks and tears it had received over the past year. The garment fell to the ground and its sleeves were long, shielding her against the chill in the room.

"I'm clothed, Elf," Caled said dryly.

Legolas was hesitant, possibly thinking she may incinerate him anyway. Seeing she would not, he turned and sat in a chair near the bed. He looked as if he had just come from bathing as well, his blonde hair slick with water and falling in damp curtains.

Caled looked away before he noticed her study of him. She sat on the edge of the bed, tucking her legs beneath her. "What is it?" she asked when he made no motion to speak.

"I'm concerned about what we should say," Legolas said. The promptness of the response solidified Caled's reasoning of his presence. "How much should we tell Lord Elrond? How much should we keep silent of?"

Caled kept her eyes down, trying to appear thoughtful. She could feel his eyes on her and resisted the urge to look back into them when she spoke. "You're thinking of the Guild?"

"Yes."

Caled hesitated, then, "Denya. Right?"

The feel of his gaze lifted. Curious, Caled looked up. Legolas was staring past the curtains to the darkening courtyards. His expression was unreadable.

"It would be different if they had accompanied us all the way," Caled said. Her words had the desired effect. Legolas turned to face her, frowning. "They didn't enter Rivendell land," she said. "They stopped at the outskirts. They made no move to come with us and Gandalf." She shrugged. "They must have been planning on that ahead of time. Not that I blame them. After all, Denya..." she paused. "Why is she so opposed to coming here?"

"Some wounds never heal," Mornie said simply, curling up beside Caled. "I doubt she ever wants to see the inside of Rivendell again."

"Elrond would be upset if we mentioned that we met his niece," Legolas said. "And if it got back that we _did_ say something, it would upset Denya. Clad as well," he added.

"Then we'll omit traveling with the Guild," Caled stated. At his nod, she said, "What else? We have to tell what we found at Gundabad."

"True, but---" Legolas paused. He was reluctant to say what was on his mind.

Caled waited, confused at his hesitance. Then, after his gaze kept flickering from her, she realized the reason. She crossed her arms, rubbing them against the chill memories brought. "We will say nothing of the Shadow Elves," she said quietly. "Or that they were the ones who made the Gry-Kah. Just that we found the journals and some weapons."

"And the Reapers?"

Anger flashed though Caled's face. "The Reapers we can talk about," she said, hurriedly assuring him she was not angry at his suggestion. "They've become quite a nuisance. And I believe their involvement with the Orcs runs deeper than we think."

The Elf made a noise of consent.

For several minutes, no one spoke. The silence was by no definition comfortable, but there was little tension. Mornie cast a lingering glance at the two of them, inwardly chuckling, before deciding he could catch up on some well earned sleep.

Caled found that her foot had a nervous tapping she could not ease. She frowned at her restlessness. Why couldn't she settle down? She was tired, she could feel it in her bones. It had nothing to do the Elf's presence. She should have fallen asleep despite him occupying the same room.

So why couldn't she settle down?

"Walk with me."

Caled jerked her head up, startled out of her thoughts. "What?"

"Take a walk with me," Legolas said, standing from the chair. He moved to the open balcony of the room, gazing down on the grounds. "Sleep eludes us both, so why don't we search for it?"

Caled raised a brow, intrigued at his offer and child-like way he was grinning. Seeing Mornie was asleep---or pretending to, she would not put it past the black being to do so---she rolled her eyes as she stood from the bed.

Legolas startled her by leaping straight off the balcony railing and into the courtyards below. Caled leaned over and saw him land on his feet. He looked up, motioning her to follow. She snorted, swinging herself onto the railing and pushing herself off.

Almost halfway down, Caled realized that Legolas had his arms up to catch her. The sight was somehow familiar, causing her stomach to pull in a disquieting way. Instead of adjusting her descent out of his reach, she braced herself.

As his arms received her, curling her towards his body, the same sense of déjà vu filled her. This time, leaving a small smile on her face.

---

Smoke rings filtered the moonlight, casting things into a hazy perspective. Gandalf puffed on his new pipe, creating the intricate rings and shapes lazily.

The ethereal courtyards looked like the setting for an interlude between two lovers in the night. Soft light, a slight mist, never mind that many of the plants were in their winter guises, it all looked perfect.

And the two who had just entered the section Gandalf was looking over completed the picture.

The Wizard smiled, watching the two. Their interactions alone bespoke of a growing bond yet the way they looked at one another was the cause for the warmth in his heart.

He had chosen rightly. For once.

Thank the Valor the girl had learned to trust another. If not, Gandalf was certain that Mirkwood would currently be short one prince.

Chuckling, Gandalf puffed out a pair of hearts in his pipe smoke, then sent another stream out to pierce the two together. Smiling at his handiwork, he turned to enter his rooms.

Best to leave them to their own devices.

---

They explored the courtyards, Caled marveling in the array of plants and sculptures. She marveled at Legolas as well. Each sculpture seemed to have its own history behind it and Legolas knew each in full. He spoke of the myths and legends of the Elves, something Caled had never heard before. He recounted the epic battles that shaped the land into what it was today, painting the picture in her mind so clearly she thought it was magic.

Caled refused to let her cheeks flame at that thought. Magic! With Elves, things just were, as Gandalf had told her when she asked so many months ago. No, Legolas was just a talented storyteller, nothing more.

So why was 'magic' the only word that crossed her mind when he turned to look at her? Why was 'magic' what she believed caused that faint glow around him when he smiled, teasing her?

And why was she _blushing_!

Annoyed at herself, Caled looked upwards towards the star studded sky. Calming herself, she focused on his words. She listened as he told of the first meeting of Aragorn and Arwen, how it in many ways mirrored that of Luthien and Beren. She could almost see it unfold before her.

"...and he called to her, unknowingly using the same words as Beren when he first spoke to Luthien, '_Tinuviel!_'"

Caled smiled. "Why would he blurt that out?"

"Many think he may have succumbed to the disease known as 'being male' and did not know what he said," Legolas said offhandedly. His face was so serious as he said this that Caled nearly burst out laughing. "I do not believe it, though."

Caled cocked an eyebrow at him. She stepped up, nimbly climbing onto the rim of a water fountain. Leaning back to look up into the sky, she asked, "What do you believe, then?"

Legolas found that his answer was lodged in his throat. His feet stopped walking and he found himself staring. Caled continued walking a ways before turning to see what was wrong. The slight frown she wore was partially covered by her hair as it swung around her, long flowing strands of sandy-blonde silk. Her eyes flashed, burning red orbs that never ceased to make his breath catch.

"Elf?" Caled said softly, briefly wondering that had happened to make him so quiet.

Words flowed from his mouth before he could stop them.

"He believed he strayed into a dream."

Caled's cheeks reddened, adding color to her skin. Legolas noted that her skin was no longer quite so pale. A peachy tone now glowed on her skin, giving her a healthier look.

"He must have," Caled suddenly spoke, breaking the silence that had lapsed between them. Hands on her hips, she rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Poor fool was raised by Elves and here I have one spouting nonsense at me for no reason. Just shows that they're touched in the head." She shook her head and sighed, "Poor Arwen."

A shriek broke the air. Legolas, grinning like the boy he had once been over a thousand years ago, had leapt into the fountain's water, sweeping his arms to send a wave of it at Caled. She stood on the rim, shivering in a combination of chills and mild fury. Legolas merely smiled cheekily at her.

"Oh, you're going to regret that!" And with a war hoop, Caled jumped into the water, returning the favor ten fold.

---

Morning was scarcely hours away. Yet Denya had not slept. Her eyes had barely closed at all through the night. She stood in an area between two trees that overlooked the silent place that was Rivendell.

It had barely changed in the centuries she had been gone. Had she expected it to? Not really. Still, it was a bit nerve wrecking.

Denya was surprised that she could look on it without screaming curses at the buildings. Perhaps she was the one who had changed...

She shook her head against the thought, one hand tugging at a braid. No, she had not changed. Nothing about her had changed save for her hair length. She was the same one who had walked away from the place that had been her home for most of her early life. She had no desire to return there, even if it were a brief visit. No, she was unchanged.

So why was she standing there as if she had never seen the place before?

Because of the same voice whispering in her ear.

'_Does it still bloom?'_

"Damn Hermit," Denya muttered. Ever since he had spoken those words, her thoughts echoed them. It was like an itch she could not scratch. She wanted to know yet at the same time dreaded the answer.

Did it still bloom?

Was it dead?

Her feet were moving before Denya was aware of it. She dodged guards and swung into tree branches as easily as she had done so all those years ago. She scaled the outer walls and nimbly ran over the narrow structure. She turned only when she needed to.

She knew were she was going.

'_Does it still bloom?_'

Denya's heart was pounding loudly against her ribs. Her palms were sweating. Her gut twisted this way and that.

Her feet slowed.

'_Does it still bloom, I wonder?'_

She stopped.

'_Whether or not the source of your oath remains as you last saw.'_

She felt her mouth tremble.

'_I wonder... Does it still bloom?_'

A great tree stood before her, alone in the courtyard. What had happened to the ones that had grown around it she did not know, nor did she care. Even in the dark night, she could see every bit of that tree. Every nook and cranny of its bark.

She could count each of its bare branches.

_Bare branches..._

Denya's breath hitched. No, she had gotten mixed up. It was the wrong tree, that was all. She was just at the wrong tree.

Yet her traitorous eyes fell on the stone tablet at the base of the tree, at the place she had wept mere centuries ago.

_It died._

The peach tree she and her childhood friends had so loved was dead.

A noise that might have been a wail barked from her gaping mouth. A second later, large yet gentle arms snaked around her, looping around her waist and deftly covering her mouth. They pulled her off the walls and down, into the shadows where they could hide.

Denya fought, clawing, pushing and kicking against the solid form that had taken her. It took her a few seconds until she heard that the form was speaking. It was Clad.

"Why did you do that?" she screamed, ignoring what he was saying and lashing out. "Why did follow me? Why?"

He did not fight her blows nor dodge them. He stood there and took them, still repeating his words slowly, deliberately.

Denya continued to scream, her words losing all meaning and turning into rants and raving. All the confusion, the hurt, and the anger she had in her had been let out at the sight of the dead peach tree.

For years she had envisioned that grave in her mind, telling herself it was all for the one buried beneath the soil there. It was only because of the one buried there that she was alive. It was because of her and Denya had sworn a blood oath that the death would be avenged. And now that image was shattered.

Slowly, as all the fight let her, her sharp ears finally began to hear what Clad was saying. She froze and raised her tear stained face to meet his own.

"Evan."

Over and over he said it. Like a mantra, he repeated it.

The sound of her given name burned her ears yet at the same time the sense of hopelessness lifted. She collapsed to the ground, choking back her sobs. He knelt next to her, comforting and being comforted in return.

---

Whispers of several kinds flew through the air of Rivendell, some even before dawn. Almost everyone knew that Prince Legolas and the strange girl had returned from their journey and were expected to recount their tales later that day. Rumors spread from mouth to mouth, some bizarre, some just speculation, and most harmless. Yet there was no denying the fact that at breakfast that morning the air between the two in question was drastically different. Most were amazed at the girl's change in demeanor.

Servants and maids expecting to be ducking hurled dining objects were struck dumb when they were met with a smile and civil words from Caled-Veleg. The absence of flying cutlery was not missed. Several people in the dining hall were listening intently to the conversations, hoping to catch a word or two about the travels that had changed her. But by an agreement or coincidence, neither Legolas nor Caled-Veleg breathed a word of their travels.

The two were spied in the gardens after the meal, speaking to one another in low tones. Eavesdropping was soon proved to be impossible, as the Prince would turn to frown reproachfully at anyone who dallied too long.

"What is so interesting out here?" Caled asked, shaking her head as another group of maids hurried off.

"I believe I'm looking at her," Legolas said, turning back to her with a smile.

Caled rolled her eyes, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. She ran a hand through her hair, saying, "Right. So, what else?"

They had been rehearsing their upcoming conversation with Elrond, making sure they would be prepared enough not to let anything unwanted slip out. They were fairly confident they could keep the Guild's role in everything out of it, as it held no real importance to the report on Gundabad.

"The Old Hermit?" Legolas posed.

Caled pulled a face. "Him we can certainly leave out. I couldn't make head or tails out of what he said half the time anyway. I doubt it would make a difference." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "All right," she said at last. "Ready?"

"Ready," Legolas murmured. Slowly, to give her time to move away, he raised a hand to brush an errant strand of hair from her face. She allowed it, red eyes looking up to his. "It'll be fine," he reassured her, not wanting to break eye contact. She looked so nervous, dreading this as much as she knew it was necessary. Legolas wanted nothing more than to keep her in the gardens, to hold her until she calmed. Still, Elrond was waiting and they had kept him long enough.

He began to move away, bringing his hand down. Legolas froze when he felt something encircle his fingers. Caled, shaking slightly, closed her small hand around Legolas' larger one.

Neither moved for some time. Legolas, heart pounding in both fear and excitement, stared at their joined hands. Was this real? Or a dream?

"Th-Thank you," Caled stammered. She too was staring down at their hands. "For...everything. Just---thanks."

Legolas did not know what to say. Instead, he lightly gripped her hand, raising it to his lips. He brushed a kiss to her knuckles, smiling warmly at her. Caled blushed fiercely.

Yet she did not break away.

Legolas nodded his head, then started on the way to Elrond's study. It was not until the doors to the room opened that Caled's hand released his.

---

The sun rose, reached its peak, and was halfway down the sky before Caled and Legolas finished their tale. The study was littered in maps, several papers, and an atlas that showed most of Middle-Earth across most of the tables. A tray held plates of food and drink that had gone unnoticed by the door, the four inside too absorbed to break for nourishment. The telling had been punctuated by many questions, thus prolonging it.

By the time all was said and done, Legolas felt as though his brain had been picked apart and hastily thrown back together with an added bonus of sawdust. As Elrond and Gandalf had become quiet, pouring over various papers, the Wood-Elf closed his eyes, leaning his head back against his chair. At least they were finished. Everything---well, _almost_ everything---had been told. Now they could relax a bit.

As if reading his mind, Gandalf turned to the two. The Wizard chuckled at their wary expressions, evidently expecting more questions. "I believe you both have earned a rest," he said. "Elrond and I shall think on what you've told us in the mean time."

"Is---Is there anything else we can do?" Caled asked. She too was slumped in her chair, eyeing the tray of food longingly yet not moving toward it.

"Not for the moment," Elrond said. Looking up, he studied each in turn before continuing. "The news of these Reapers is most disturbing. Almost as disturbing as the connection to the Orc attacks." He hesitated, considering his next words carefully. "Something must be done. But not now." He motioned to the door. "Go, rest as Gandalf said."

Caled gave a small smile of thanks, standing. Legolas stood, bowing to the Lord and Wizard before following Caled out the door. Once they were a safe distance away, Caled said, "Do we have time?"

Legolas nodded, glancing around to make sure they were alone. "This way," he said, ushering her through a hallway that lead to a smaller section of the courtyards. She followed him silently. Not long after they entered the grounds, Mornie scurried out of the bushes. Caled scooped him up, nestling him in the crook of her arm.

Now came the hard part. The place they had agreed on was on the other side of Rivendell. Yet the space between it was heavily populated at this time, servants finishing up last minute chores before dark or those who wished to enjoying the sunset. If anyone were to see them it may lead to tricky questions and delay them further.

Auron said they had until night. The sky was already turning its red shades. Would they have time?

They scaled the wall, dropping to the ground and hurrying on. They did not speak to each other, focused on keeping the time.

For his part, Legolas did not know what he would say or what would be said to him when they arrived. He had become used to the Guild in their travels. When he had awoke that morning, he had wondered why it was so quiet. The absence of Denya's usual morning greeting of pouncing on him or Dias and Darin arguing had left him feeling off centered.

What would happen now?

They had no further reason to stay. They had their own lives, their own goals to see through. They had fulfilled their promise, nothing held them down.

Would this be goodbye?

Just as the sun sank, becoming nothing more than a slight hump of gold on the edge of the sky, a bright flicker caught Legolas' eye from ahead. The air was filled with a familiar aroma of campfire food and sounds of voices. He heard Caled give a soft laugh of relief as she slowed down.

They broke into the clearing, a chorus of loud greetings filling the area. Aurora motioned them to the fireside, already dividing the hot food. Dias was at her side, assisting and sneaking kisses when she least expected. Auron and Anex were discussing something, calling for Legolas' opinion when he sat down. Dias questioned Caled about an on going topic between them, the two being joined by Tan shortly.

It was as if Gandalf had never arrived. They had seamlessly resumed their routine, none venturing to question the two about what had been told or what would be done. Conversations were picked up as if a day of separation had never passed. Jokes and teasing passed over the fire as it had done over the past months.

It was only the absence of Denya's voice that kept the illusion at bay. She did not distance herself from them nor was she completely silent. She sat between Auron and Clad and laughed or spoke a handful of times. Yet she did not speak unless a question was directed to her. Her two toned eyes rarely strayed from the woodblock she was shaping, intent on the small figure. A small, sad smile played at her face. She looked as if a weight had been taken off her back and she was not yet used to its absence.

Still, it was not meant to last. Once the food was gone the air became tense, expectant. When Auron cleared his throat, everyone turned, quiet. "You met with Elrond?" he said at last. At Legolas' nod and Caled's soft affirmative, his fingers templed together, face blank as he thought. "From the lack of search parties, I take it you skipped over meeting us, correct?"

Legolas nodded again. "We thought it for the best." He could not withhold a glance to Denya. Her mouth curved in a smirk for a moment.

Auron chuckled. "Indeed. What did he say?"

"That something must be done," Caled answered. "He was surprised about the Reapers and that the Orcs were not coming from Mount Gundabad."

"A thought all of us shared," Auron said firmly. Apparently he had not missed the note of self-annoyance in her voice. Again, he grew silent. His fingers tapped against each other, brow deepening into a frown. Abruptly, he straightened, focusing his gaze on Caled and Legolas. "What will you do?"

"Fight back."

Legolas jerked, surprised at Caled's snappish answer. She too looked surprised but went on. "The Reapers must be stopped. Elrond has the capacity to stage a retaliation. Maybe not personally, but he certainly knows of people who would fight for him. The Orcs as well would be seen to." She snorted. "I doubt he wishes to leave this land knowing such events were still going on."

A soft smile cracked Auron's face. "I agree. So, you will go for him?"

"Not on his orders, no," Caled said, rolling her eyes. "I will do so without him ordering it." Her eyes narrowed. "They have been carrying on unchecked long enough."

"And you?"

Legolas tore his eyes away to look at Auron. "I have long since decided I would do something about these abominations." He gave a shrug. "If I do so with Lord Elrond's backing: all the better."

Auron nodded slowly, fingers tapping against each other again. Then he sighed, shoulders sagging a bit. "Then we shall part ways here."

Though he had been expecting it, Legolas felt an cold plunge in his middle.

"You---" Caled started.

"We've done what we set out to do."

Anex's bright green eye stared at the mountains behind them, blatantly ignoring their looks of surprise. He took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. "We've fulfilled our Pact," he stated, voice flat.

Caled opened her mouth but stopped when Legolas gently laid a hand on her arm. She frowned at him, confused. He shook his head at her questioning glare. He turned back to the group at large, all nine pairs of eyes watching him. "You've done more than your share," Legolas said. "I don't wish to think of what would have happened had we not stumbled into your land." He then adjusted himself on his knees. Pressing his hands to the cold earth, he bowed low. "Thank you."

Caled looked from face to face as the Wood Elf sat back down. "Yes," she said with a touch of a sigh. "Thank you all. It was interesting to say the least," she added, laughing shortly.

Dias glanced at the black sky. "You should return soon," he said. "No doubt Elrond or Gandalf has noticed your absence."

Legolas and Caled glance at each other, rising to their feet. Neither wished to yet they both moved to the trail leading to Rivendell.

"Wait."

Aurora stood up, hurrying over to them. She held out two sacks, their contents bulging against the sturdy material. She handed one to each of them, saying, "These are some things I think you may need. Salves, bandages, some ointment that will speed up healing time of a Reaper injury---there are some instructions in there." She looked at them, brown eyes watery. She then hugged them both tightly. "Take care," she whispered, voice cracking slightly.

Dias came up behind Aurora, gripping her gently on the shoulder. He too held his hand out. Dangling from his fist were two silver necklaces, identical save for the color of the small diamond shaped pendant. He gave the scarlet one to Caled and the indigo one to Legolas. "Those will shield you once you activate them. Grip the pendant and say 'Ko'Lea.' It should protect you from a fair amount of physical attacks for ten minutes. You can also use it to locate each other. Say 'Ja'Lihc' then the other's name." He gave them a half-smile. "The most we can do for you now."

"Thank you," Legolas said, bowing at the waist as Caled mimicked him.

Denya suddenly stood up. She strode over to them, hands clenched into fists and face a stern blank. Legolas was so startled by her countenance he stepped back when she stopped before them.

She thrust hand out to Caled. Resting on her palm was a shimmering bracelet studded with small red crystals. "It's a weapon," she said shortly. "Grip it and think 'fight' and it'll unbind."

Caled did so. The bracelet grew into a finely crafted whip. Along the cloth handle were inscriptions that shifted every so often.

"From me and Anex," Denya said, jerking her head to the Avari. "He made it, I just made it like that," she added when Caled changed it back into a bracelet and settled it on her arm. It shrank to a comfortable size.

She then shoved something heavy into Legolas' hands. It was box shaped and wrapped in cloth. Legolas frowned, testing the heavy object. "In five days, give that to Elrond," Denya said, eyes staring at the ground, "but say nothing. And---" She stopped, her face growing an unfamiliar blush.

Before anyone knew what had happened, Denya had grabbed Legolas by his shirt and pulled him forward in a heated kiss.

Legolas blinked when he was released just as suddenly, dimly aware of someone whistling. Denya turned around and, not looking back, said, "Something to think on, Leafy."

Aurora, tears forgotten, stuffed a fist into her mouth to stop laughing. Darin raised his head to look at the sky and lifted his hands in a 'I give up' motion. Tan shook his head, easily dodging Denya's half-hearted kick.

Auron, who had stood and was now beside them, rolled his eyes. He held out his hand, shaking Legolas firmly and placing a chaste kiss to the back of Caled's. "Best of luck to you both," he said solemnly. "Our ways may cross again."

"May it be so," Legolas replied. Looking to Caled in question, they both turned and walked down the trail. Not three yards down, they looked back, hoping to see something.

There was nothing, save for the soft sound of grass being stirred in the breeze.

The Thieves Guild was gone.

----------

A. N.-- This may count as the unofficial half-way point of the fic. Depends of how you look at it. Anyway, all chapter have been updated, in case you didn't know. Go back and reread them or else you may be confused.

As usual: R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	34. Chpt XXVIII: Friction: Restained

A.N.-- Wow, churned this out fairly quick... May be a record. I wouldn't expect another too soon tho'.

---

Chapter Twenty Eight - Friction: Restrained

Rivendell.

The Last Homely House, the dwelling of the Elf Lord Elrond.

Inches ahead, shining in the moonlight.

And she was petrified at the sight of it.

Na'Tath, crouched in the shadows before the gates, shook in fear, wide eyes darting around at any movement.

The creature was nearly at her wits' end. She had followed Kaha'Dak and her group to this area. She had been within feet of them, close enough to call out to them. Two had left the circle of the campfire, heading to the Elven city. The moment their backs were turned, the others vanished.

Na'Tath had panicked. Unheeding the danger of exposing herself, she had rushed forward into the clearing. Her eyes roved the site, hands grasping at even the dirt and moving it around, hoping to find the ones that had been seated there seconds before.

The sound of footsteps had registered in her frantic mind just in time. She hid again just as the other two had stopped and looked back.

There was no trace of what had happened. There was no trail that showed where she had gone to. There was no sign of Kaha'Dak's location.

Na'Tath did not know what to do.

Her mind had finally calmed down and thought it through. Kaha'Dak was gone. There was nothing she could do about that. But all may not be lost.

The Shadow Elf and the Woodland Prince remained behind.

Na'Tath took a steadying breath, repeating this to herself. Pushing back her gnawing terror, she slowly burrowed into the shadows. Silently, unobserved, she emerged on the inside of the gates, hidden in the foliage from the guards.

She looked around, memorizing the area. Na'Tath caught the trail of the Shadow Elf, tensing when she saw evidence that the Mornie was still alive as well. She shivered, dreading an encounter with that being. She would have to be careful going about this. One wrong move and she would be killed.

She had to risk it. She had to know where Kaha'Dak was. What she knew was too important to simply ignore. Na'Tath had to speak with her.

Certainly the Shadow Elf and the Woodland Prince would know Kaha'Dak's whereabouts; in the very least, an idea of where she was. They had been in her company for a year, they must know something.

They would tell her.

Na'Tath would make them tell her.

---

It had been three days.

Three long days.

And nothing had been said about what would be done.

Legolas knew that he should be patient. Elrond was thinking this through carefully, he had sent messages to people and was awaiting their responses. It was natural to take awhile. Any mistake may cost them in the long run.

..._I'm so BORED_.

The mundane atmosphere was chaffing the Elf. He had grown used to moving around constantly, never resting for the night in the same area twice in a row. The quietness as well was disturbing now. Without Denya and Darin bickering or Rali and Tan getting into a heated argument, Legolas found the newfound silence a bit annoying. The monotony of seeing the same walls, the same landscape---though still pleasant and at times breath taking---was slowing driving him stir crazy.

Not to mention the fact that he was stiff from lack of exercise.

Legolas sighed as he rotated his left shoulder, trying to loosen it some. For a while now he had noticed it was growing stiffer, sometimes even lethargic. Perhaps he _was_ overdue in exercise. Mind set, he picked up his bow, quiver of arrows, and his long knives before heading out to the training grounds, intent on not returning until he was thoroughly exhausted.

It was a mild day, some clouds in the otherwise clear blue sky, and only cold enough that you noticed it when you walked outside. _Perfect_, Legolas thought. He would not have to worry about too much of an audience, or even having to maneuver around others who were training as it was just after one in the afternoon. Many of the guards were out on the grounds doing a sweep patrol.

So it was a bit of a surprise when Legolas heard the sounds of someone already in the grounds, pummeling a dummy with rhythmic kicks. He turned through the opening in the hedges that surrounded the area and stopped at the scene before him.

Straw, cloth, and stuffing exploded, flying through the air as the dummy gave up and shattered under one particular kick. Caled stood, balanced on one foot, getting showered by the remains of the dummy. She was holding her other leg still, extended to the point where it had made contact with its target.

Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a few locks that had escaped sticking to her sweat streaked face and neck. She was clothed in an old set of trainee clothes, no doubt taken from the seamstress' pile of mending. She had rolled the sleeves and pant legs several times in order to make them fit her smaller frame. A long sash of material wound tightly around her waist, keeping the otherwise billowing tunic tucked close out of her way.

This was the first time Legolas had seen Caled in such form fitting attire.

It was also the first time he noticed how long her legs were.

And how trim her waist was...

"Can I help you?"

Legolas snapped his eyes up, forcing his mouth to close. Caled was looking at him, a curious but amused expression on her face. "I'm just surprised. I thought I would have the area to myself," he said, shrugging.

Caled raised an eyebrow as he set down his things. A frown crossed her face and she lowered her leg. "Feeling a bit sluggish?" she asked when he stretched out his arm, rotating it.

Legolas grimaced, feeling the joint pop. "More than a bit."

Caled gave a short laugh. "Ditto." She turned to another dummy, shifting her weight to kick with her other leg. "Never thought---much about---all the---bloody exercise---we were---getting," she grunted, pausing with each connection her foot made with the dummy.

"As you've said, 'ditto'," Legolas said.

Caled stopped in mid-kick, turning to him with a slow smirk spreading across her face. "How about we loosen each other up?"

Due to the fact he had just been admiring the way the snug attire fit around her bottom, her words brought a myriad of thoughts to Legolas' mind. He bit his tongue against a retort that would have certainly earned him a fireball down the pants---and then had to force his mind away from the images _that_ thought brought.

If Caled knew the state of Legolas' mind, she gave no indication. "What do you say?" she pressed, placing her hands on her hips and giving him an 'I dare you' look. "We both need the work out. And it would be more interesting having a target that can hit back," she added, thumping the dummy nearest her.

_Valor, give me strength!_ Legolas forced a thoughtful expression onto his face. Was she doing this on purpose?

"Scared, aren't you?" Caled suddenly drawled, cocking an eyebrow.

The open insult drove all other thoughts from his mind. Legolas met her grinning red orbs, holding them as he wordlessly walked over. He stopped a few feet away from her and fell into a fighting stance, keeping all his weight on the balls of his feet. He was distracted, yes, but that did not mean he could not give her a good run around.

Caled's smirk widened for a fraction of a second before it slid from her face. She studiously fixed her stare on his, face relaxed into blankness. Her body as well fell into ready stance, shifting all her weight on her back leg and crouching low to the ground.

Neither knew how long they stood there, tensely waiting for a signal. Minutes or hours, whatever it was, passed by unknown. Their breaths were low, even.

Suddenly they clashed.

Caled swung her leg up and around, catching Legolas in the side. He moved with the blow, flipping onto his hands. His leg caught hers on its descent, twisting it. He straightened, swinging her around. She braced herself, rolling back onto her feet. She crossed her arms, deftly catching his fist as he brought it to strike her stomach. Bracing herself, she knocked his arm away, bringing her knee up to block his other. Her momentum carried her closer, enabling her to head butt him solidly.

Legolas staggered, dazed. He heard Caled snort, giving away her position. He leaned back sharply, her leg grazing just over his abdomen in its flight. He righted himself and took advantage of her being off centered. He caught her by the arm, twirling her so that the captured appendage wound around her body, hindering her movements. Her eyes flashed as she turned to glare at him. Her other arm was quickly caught as it had been about to swing back to strike him.

"Surrender?" Legolas grunted, unable to stop the smirk that tugged his mouth.

Caled snarled. Bracing her arms against his, she reared back, colliding with his chest. Off balanced, she swung her legs over both of them, flipping their positions. Without pausing, she gripped his arms and threw him over her head. She spun around to face him, still ready.

Legolas caught himself and managed to land on his feet. That smirk was still there, infuriating Caled more than she would admit. She was breathing hard now and a dull ache was coming from her muscles. Something she certainly would not have had from beating on that dummy. A smile flittered across her lips. At least _this_ dummy fought back.

"Well?" Legolas called, panting slightly. "Do you surrender or not?"

Caled's eyes narrowed. Her mouth opened to snap out a retort.

Then she saw the hedges directly behind him shudder. A flash of black and silver white shone against the dark green leaves. On pure reflex, she conjured a fireball the size of her fist and shot it. Just as it left her fingers, she realized its path was blocked.

"Duck!" Caled cried, hoping the stupid Elf would have enough sense to do so.

He did but just barely. The fire caught him by the sleeve of his shirt before sailing on to the hedge beyond. The plant erupted into flames.

As did Legolas' shirt.

The Elf swore, ripping off the flaming cloth. He threw it to the ground, swatting at his hair and shoulder in cause the flames had managed to spread.

"Are you all right?" Caled asked, hurrying to him.

"Fine," he assured her, twisting his head around to check for any damage. "What was that for?" he asked, frowning at her.

"There was something there," Caled said, looking to the burning hedges. There was nothing save for the blazing shrubbery. "At least there was," she added, a bit sulkily. She turned back to him, asking again, "Are you sure you're all right?"

Legolas nodded, rechecking himself.

Another question began to form in Caled's mind then slowly died away. Like so many things, she learned something new about Legolas every day.

And she now learned that he saw nice to look at.

Caled gazed at his bare chest, gleaming under a fine sheen of sweat. He was not bulky---which Caled was certain would look strange for his tall frame---but there was no denying the fact that there was muscle under that sun kissed skin. Her eyes were drawn to a bead of sweat as it rolled down his ridged stomach.

_Beautiful._

It was the only word she could clearly think. Nothing about him seemed off or irregular. Each part complimented the whole, only adding to the entire sight.

He was _very_ nice to look at.

As her eyes rose, suddenly thinking he noticed her gawking like a child, Caled stopped.

"What is that?"

Legolas, who had been intently studying the hedges in case the flames would spread, turned back. Caled was staring at his shoulder. Thinking he had managed to receive a burn after all, he raised a hand to feel the skin.

His fingers did not meet a burn. Nor did they meet whole flesh.

There was a thick, puckered line running down from his left shoulder, stopping a few inches above his heart. The line was an ash grey, thin spider webs of color branching to the surrounding skin before blending out.

Caled gasped, covering her mouth with a hand. "That---that's where I---" She broke off, raising wide, frightened eyes up to his.

Legolas gaped at the scar. He had known his shoulder was troubling him, but did it stem from the old wound? Was that the reason? Then why did this scar suddenly appear? It had not been there early in the day.

Suddenly he was jerked by his other arm. Caled had grabbed his arm and was pulling him along as she ran.

"Caled? What---"

"Just follow me!" she snapped.

Caled paused only long enough to retrieve something from the things she had brought with her. Then she hurried through the halls, pulling Legolas along behind her. She ignored the looks and startled gasps they received from those they passed.

It took a second before Legolas recognized the direction they were heading. "Caled, I'm fine," he tried to tell her. "Really, there's nothing to worry about. Just forget about it, all right?"

She did not slow but she threw a glare over her shoulder. "If it's 'fine' then why were you favoring your right arm?"

Legolas blinked, surprised. She had noticed?

They reached their destination. Caled kicked open the doors, unnecessarily speeding up. She maneuvered them around the tables and back into a sectioned off portion of the large room. There sat Elrond and Gandalf, the latter puffing on his pipe while the former poured over a large tome. They both looked up at the intrusion.

Caled swung the half naked Elf around in front of her. She pushed him to Elrond, motioning to his marred shoulder. "This is the same wound he had when he brought me here over a year ago," she stated. "It just now took on this appearance."

Concern flashed across Elrond's face. He set the book aside and stood. He examined the shoulder intently for a few moments. He stepped back, asking, "Did it reopen at any time over the year?"

"No," Legolas answered.

"Have you been having any problems with it?"

Legolas shrugged. "A slight twitching on occasion, nothing too serious or frequent. Lately it's been a bit stiff but that's just from inactivity."

"We were sparring a minute ago and he greatly favored his other arm," Caled interjected, narrowing her eyes at Legolas. Before the Wood-Elf could response, she held out the red jeweled dagger she had brought with her. "This is what I---I stabbed him with," she stumbled, looking down at the ground. "It's part of the group of the weapons we found in Gundabad."

Elrond took the dagger, pulling it from the sheath and studying it closely.

"Is it---Could it have done something?" Caled stammered, wringing her hands. Legolas was startled by her nervousness and guilt far more than he was at the strange scar.

Elrond did not answer right away. He uttered something under his breath, causing a soft light to illuminate the dagger for a moment. He then passed it to Gandalf, who as well studied it. "From what I can see," the Elf Lord said, "the wound is nothing serious. I assure you," Elrond pressed when Caled opened her mouth, "whatever caused this was not done by this dagger. The spells it holds are not volatile to Elves, Caled-Veleg. The only harm it did was what any other dagger would have done: cut him."

"The dagger did not cause this," Gandalf reaffirmed, handing it back to Caled. "Nor did you," the Wizard said softly, smiling at her. "Elrond said the wound is not serious, Caled. Do not worry."

Caled did not looked eased by these proclamations, but nodded, taking the dagger. She gave a short bow, mumbling, "Sorry to bother you." Before they could stop her, she turned and hurried out of the study.

Just as she passed, Legolas thought he saw a deep flush cover her cheeks.

---

It took Legolas a while but he found her. Caled was sitting in the middle of the hedge maze, still dressed in the clothes she had worn to the training area. She had her legs drawn up, hugging her knees to her chest. She glanced up at his approach then quickly dropped her gaze to the ground.

Legolas silently sat down beside her. He mimicked her position so the hedge would not stick him in the back. Neither spoke for a minute or so.

"I'm sorry."

Legolas blinked, not expecting to hear that. "For what?"

Caled tilted her head a bit in his direction. "The way I treated you when we first met. The names I called you. For being a royal ass when all you did was look out for me." She ran her hands through her hair, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry hurting you, Elf."

Legolas stared at her, taken aback by this sudden apology.

Caled jerked abruptly, eyes widening as they looked up at him. Her voice shook when she spoke. "You don't believe me. Of course you don't, how could you? I was so foul to you. I was despicable! Loathsome! Vile! I'm lower than mud! I'm revolting! I'm filth---"

"Caled!" Legolas shouted over her. He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her to stop her screaming. "Stop it, Caled!"

She did, only to shrink back from him. She pulled out of his grip, covering her head with her arms and drawing her knees back to her chest. She drew a shaky breath before a choked sob ripped from her.

Legolas swore at himself. He had not meant to scare her. He had just wanted her to stop saying such things. Her words more than anything had alarmed him. They had echoed the words Saruman had shouted at her, the ones he had drilled into her head.

"Caled," he said softly. She did not respond. "Caled, look at me. Please?" For a moment Legolas did not think she would. Then she slowly raised her head.

It tore at his heart to see the tears streaking her face. Even more so that he caused them.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he told her. "I just---" he halted, trying to find the right words, "---just couldn't stand hearing you say those things."

Caled turned away. "Why?" she sniffed. "They're true." She tensed when his hand touched her cheek to face him. She snarled, preparing to fight---

Then froze at the tender look in his eyes.

"No, they're not, Caled."

Her mouth opened to reply but nothing came out. His hands cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears. Caled felt lightheaded.

Legolas lowered his face so their eyes were level. "They aren't true, _coramin_," he said softly.

Caled's breath hitched at the Elvish word.

He smiled warmly. "They're far, far from the truth." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her brow. Legolas had barely moved back when Caled gave into the same urge she had had so many weeks ago.

She flung her arms around him, not caring that he was still shirtless, and began to cry all over again.

Legolas caught his balance before they fell over. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked her head under his chin, stroking her hair. He murmured soft words to her, some endearments in his own tongue.

---

Elrond sighed, closing his eyes. It did not help. He could still see the words that had confirmed what he had dreaded all along.

It was a Gandalf had said: their tale had complicated things.

Elrond opened his eyes, staring blankly at the four letters before him. Each had been sent to a different area, asking the same question. Three had returned two days ago. One had been returned within the past hour.

And it had brought the heaviest reply.

The Elf Lord did not know what to make of it. If it was only Orcs maybe he could do something. But they were not alone. These Reapers were among them. In many cases, leading them. Ordinarily, Elrond would not give much thought to it.

Except for the fact that until Legolas and Caled had given their reports he had never heard of Reapers.

That was what shook Elrond the most. The fact that a group of creatures he had never known to exist was coordinating attacks with Orcs; that they had been for several years apparently.

Perhaps there was merit in what Gandalf suggested.

A knock from the door interrupted him.

"**_Enter_**," he called.

Legolas entered, carrying a cloth wrapped object. He bowed shortly, approaching the desk.

Elrond frowned at the object. "**_What brings you here, Legolas?_**" he asked. "**_Is your shoulder bothering you?_**"

"**_No, sir,_**" Legolas said. "**_It's fine._**" He hesitated, and then gently set the bundle down on the table. Both winced at the loud '**CLUNK**' it made on contact. "**_I---I was told to give this to you,_**" he explained slowly, "**_on this day. Thank you for your time._**" Before Elrond could stop him, Legolas was out the door.

Elrond raised a brow, reaching over and picking up the object. The cloth was rich blue velvet and gave way under pressure. Unwrapping it, he found it contained a wooden box. He examined it and found small runes carved on one end. The runes read, 'Place on this end. Speak_ sing_.'

Curious, Elrond set the box on the indicated end. "**_Sing,_**" he said clearly.

To his amazement, the top of the box and the sides fell away slowly to lie on the table. There stood a small figure in the shape of a maiden wearing a beautiful high collar gown that held a swirling pattern of river waves. Long hair flowed around the figure past its waist, a black shot through with blue. The figure---though crafted from non-living materials---moved. It raised its head and opened its minute eyes.

Elrond's blood went cold. The eyes were green flecked with blue.

_It couldn't---_

The figure of his niece began to sing.

"**_One soundless midday,_**

_**The wind was fresh and clean,**_

_**And the flower petals swayed**_

_**As if they were asleep.**_

_**This serene feeling...**_

_**Tell me, what's the name that people give it?**_

_**Tell me a story that's locked away**_

_**In the white sand of the moon,**_

**_Let me hear it as gently as light shining down..._**"

As the song ended, the figure looked at Elrond. It smiled sadly. "Her Star still shines," it whispered. Then it bowed its head and resumed its resting position.

For a long time, Elrond stared at the figure. All feeling seemed to have gone out of him. Then he turned to look at a calendar he had tacked to the wall. His heart stopped for a moment.

This was the day, all those years ago, when he had lost his niece.

The very day of her birth.

---

A prickle on the back of his neck was what alerted Gandalf to his presence. The Wizard stood from his chair and turned, grasping his staff in his hand.

A young man with black hair stood by the closed doors of Gandalf's quarters. He smiled tensely. "Sorry to intrude," he said, voice strained.

"Who---" Gandalf stopped. The young man had blinked his golden eyes, a blue shine to them catching the light. "You!"

Mornie nodded. "I wish to speak with you." He stepped forward. His knees suddenly gave way under his weight. He grabbed hold of the wall, gritting his teeth with the effort to stay upright.

"What is wrong?" Gandalf asked, hurrying to his side. He held out an arm to support the shape shifter.

Mornie gave a short laugh. "Many things, I'm afraid." He collapsed into a chair, wincing at some pain.

"If I may ask, why this form?" Gandalf inquired.

"Quicker to cross distances and less energy," Mornie said with a shrug.

The Wizard studied Mornie intently for a moment. "What is this about?"

Mornie waited until Gandalf has sat down before he said, "Am I right in guessing that you and Lord Elrond are planning a course of action against the Reapers?"

Gandalf nodded.

"Am I correct that you are planning on sending Legolas and Caled?"

"Now that is simply---"

"Am I?" Mornie repeated.

It was the stressed tone in his voice that made Gandalf stop. "Why must you know?"

An odd smile tugged Mornie's mouth. "Because it may mean death."

The cryptic meaning was not lost on Gandalf. The Wizard's bushy eyebrows raised in surprise. "It was serious then?"

"Gravely."

"Time is catching up?"

"Swiftly."

Gandalf sat back, pondering the words. After a moment, he asked, "What do you wish of me?"

"There is something I must know," Mornie answered, his voice again tensed. He seemed to be struggling against something. "It is something only a Wizard as yourself can tell me."

"Surely Elrond can---"

"It has to be from Gandalf the White Wizard," Mornie cut in, "because another White Wizard set it." Again the odd smile passed over his lips. "Tell me, Gandalf: How much of her culture are you aware of?"

"A fair amount," Gandalf replied. Where was this leading?

"Then I guess you've wondered about her name?"

Gandalf paused, thinking. "Her name?" he reiterated.

"Yes. Or rather---" Mornie hesitated, choosing his words carefully, "---rather her _lack_ of a name?"

There was a weighty silence. Then, quietly, "You need the Unsealing Words?

"Yes."

----------

A. N.-- (evil laugh) I had too much fun writing this. For all of you screaming at the prolonged tension, you'll be rewarded in due time.

Song is from _Outlaw Star,_ me no own.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	35. Chpt XXIX: Reflections

Chapter Twenty Nine - Reflections

The dagger flashed in the waning light, its red jewels sparkling. Caled watched as the sunset was reflected on the dagger's curved edge. The weapon turned ever so slightly at her touch, balanced on its point.

Caled's eyes followed its sharp edge, absently reading the markings there. The symbols were the base of the spell that gave the dagger its unique qualities. Without them, it would simply be a finely crafted weapon.

A weapon she had raised against an important person in her life.

Caled made a face, snatching up the dagger and hurling it at the opposite wall. It hit the wall just above the door frame and sunk a few inches into it. It was amazing how easily it slid in. It was certainly a sharp blade.

She made a sound like a groan, raking her hands through her hair. She could not stop thinking out that scar. Even now as she stared intently at the design on the footboard of her bed all she could see was that ugly mark.

A blemish on an otherwise flawless sight.

Caled rubbed her cheeks, wishing for what felt like the hundredth time that she could stop blushing.

Despite her initial hatred of him, Legolas had more than proven his worth to Caled early on in their travels. Yet even then she had never stopped to consider the fact that her companion was attractive.

...very, very attractive.

She never paid attention to Denya's loud flirtation and the female Elf's open appraisal of his looks. Caled ignored it, her ears long since trained to stop listening the moment she heard the shrill call of "Leafy!"

She had noticed---on very few occasions---when village girls would sometimes stare after him, sighing. She had assumed they were wishing to be taken away from their mundane lives and the mysterious band of travelers may take them.

Now though...

Caled's eyes felt strangely hot. She blinked against the tears.

She could not deny what she had seen three days ago. Legolas was handsome---devilishly so, she admitted. It was no wonder people stared at him. It was obvious why girls and women wanted him to look their way. With his elegant features and striking physique, he had his pick of any other them.

_Coramin..._

Caled stood and crossed to the curtains. She checked to make sure no one was around before drawing them. The sunset still had enough light to illuminate her room through the cloth. She when went to the doors and locked them shut. Then she turned, eyes set on the far corner of the room.

A mirror hung there.

Dull, scattered memories floated to her mind. She had always been wary of mirrors since her escape of Orthanc. Yet now she moved without hesitation. When she stood in front of the mirror, she took a deep breath, trying to stop her hands from shaking.

Since her escape, she had never willingly looked into a mirror. She had only glanced occasionally, and never stopped long enough to get a good look at her reflection. And she had made sure that no one ever saw her body if she could help it. It had been easy to ask Denya to craft a disguise bracelet. After their long chat in the hot springs the magic smith had been ready to do anything to help her. Aurora never mentioned what she saw, though she had asked a few questions that hinted it was on her mind. She did not care that Elrond had seen. He was wise enough to keep his mouth shut and she knew he had ordered the servants that had treated her previously to secrecy.

Slowly, Caled raised her head. She stared into her own eyes for a moment before examining the rest of her face. Her eyes once again stung with tears as she gazed at her hair. She remembered Theo and how he had once gotten a honeycomb stuck in her hair. And her mother trying to work it out as she wailed at the thought of her long hair having to be cut.

Then her eyes lowered to her neck. With a shaking hand, she undid the clasp holding her tunic together. The cloth fell apart and slid off her shoulders, hanging from her belt. She always chose an undergarment with long sleeves if her outer clothes did not have any. Yet since this tunic did, her arms were bare.

Caled's red eyes stared at the scars crossing her limbs. She could recall almost every event behind the marks on her arms. The jagged line tracing the curve of her left arm had been a punishment she received her first night in Orthanc, teaching her to never spit in a Wizard's face. The burn that spread from her right shoulder down her arm had been the result of talking back to an Orc and being too close to the kiln when it lashed out. Then there were the countless lacerations, too many to recall individually. All because she had displeased someone.

Her hands and wrists were smooth, untouched in all her years under the Orcs and Saruman. She could dimly recall someone once saying that her training needed to be unseen.

Her hand now shook as she raised it and grasped the edge of the undershirt. She slowly raised it, stopping just under the curve of her breasts.

Caled convulsed on reflex, her vision blurring for a moment.

There was another burn, arching over her hip. Again a seemingly limitless amount of smaller cuts carelessly made on a sudden whim were scattered across her skin. Among them was a pair of larger ones slashing down her side to her thigh, cut deep enough that she had nearly bled to death when they were carved into her flesh. There was also the one she received from the cursed blade the Orc had carried into her cell her last day in Orthanc. Even now the skin there was raised and discolored, curving from her side up her back.

Yet it was the scar that stretched from her sternum to just past her belt that she stared at.

_(trash)_

Her finger's slackened their grip, releasing the shirt. It fluttered down, covering her.

_(ugly)_

Her scars would never fade. It had been so long already and Elrond had tried his best. She would die with the marks of her past.

(_filth)_

Legolas could have his choice of any woman and no one would fight it. His status and beauty assured him of that, Caled knew. He was free to chose. It was his own decision.

And yet she could not figure out why Legolas called her '_coramin'_...

---

**/TWANG/**

**/THUD/**

Legolas frowned, picking up another arrow and knocking it into place. That last arrow had been slightly off mark. He pulled the arrow back and aimed.

**/TWANG/**

**/THUD/**

Again the arrow barely missed its intended mark.

The Elf sighed, unstringing his bow and walking over to the target to retrieve the arrows. Maybe it was nothing. Perhaps he was just distracted.

"Elf!"

---Speaking of distractions.

Legolas turned to see Caled jogging into the archery range, Mornie tucked against her side. Her expression was one of tense excitement. "What is it?" Legolas asked when she stopped beside him, though he had an inkling.

Caled panted, trying to catch her breath. "El-Elrond's called for us," she said. "Says it's important." She glanced around, making sure the others using the range were far enough away so that they would not hear. "I think it's time, Elf," she whispered.

Legolas, though as excited as she was about the chance to finally do something about the Reapers and Orcs, could not help but feel a bit disappointed. She still refused to call him by name. He was beginning to wonder if she ever would.

Caled literally pulled him from his thoughts, gripping his hand and dragging him behind her. Legolas had to chuckle at the restrained grin on her face.

Then again he was surprised at the amount of emotion she had been displaying recently. It was never her usual over the top emotions such as her temper or even those rare bouts of severe depression. It was more subtle. A slow smile here and there. Her eyelids lowering halfway in contentment. That strange semi-shrug with just one shoulder. Little things he had never seen before.

His eyes lowered to their joined hands. This as well was becoming a regular occurrence. It was never a blatant action yet somehow they managed to end up brushing against each other, or holding hands as they were now.

But what did it mean?

Legolas pushed those musings away as they neared the War Room. Surprisingly, Caled did not let go right away. Mornie hopped down to free her other arm and they walked into the room with hands clasped. It was not until Elrond and Gandalf looked up at their approach did she release him.

Gandalf smiled into his beard yet Elrond did not seem to have noticed. The Elf Lord had spread the same map they had conferred over last year onto the largest table in the room. Several other papers scattered the map, along with four letters Elrond had grouped near him. One letter was several pages longer than the others.

"Lady Caled-Veleg, Legolas," Elrond said, nodding as they came to the table. "Gandalf and I have strenuously thought on all you've told us. We've discussed these Reapers and what their plans seem to be. As you can guess, we at first had little to go on. Until these came," he said, motioning to the letters. "I sent out messages to allies I have in the four parts of Middle-Earth. The first three---" he noted the shorter letters, "---all said the same thing: we've seen little or none of the activities you've described. The last had a most disturbing reply."

Elrond placed a hand on the stack of papers. "They not only gave detailed descriptions of the Reapers but also outlined several attacks on towns in the area."

"The Reapers attacked?" Legolas asked. "Not Orcs, but Reapers?"

Elrond nodded. "Yes. There was no Orc activity, only Reapers. It was some time ago, but Reapers suddenly attacked en masse on a large town. The strange thing was that the Reapers seemed intent on something other than killing. They kidnapped a large number of people, mainly young women. One man managed to escape and told as much as he could before he died. He spoke of a huge grouping of Reapers---a 'nest'of them. He was delirious because he kept saying that the Reapers were trying to infect them. But something he said of interest."

The Elf Lord rested his eyes on Caled. "He told them of an attack on 'the Shadow Elf' and how 'the plan' was working."

"What?" Caled breathed, gripping the edge of the table for support.

"By our reasoning," Gandalf said, "the young man said all of this within a month or so of your arrival of Mount Gundabad. Was that not when you encountered a large group of them?"

They nodded, Legolas barely registering the movement. That must have been the attack in which he had glimpsed Caled's memories.

"The young man said more," Elrond continued. "Most of which they took for hallucinations. But some things struck them as true."

"Such as?" Caled asked.

"That there would be an Orc attack, which did occur. That the Reapers were gathering for some reason. He also gave two names: Ke'Dab and Zage."

Time seemed to freeze for Legolas. One the one hand, hearing Ke'Dab's name meant that the Reapers were planning something, something big. But the second name was the reason behind the numbness in his limbs.

Zage.

He had heard that name. It had been in one of Meryl's visions. _He_ had said it in the vision.

"From what he said," Elrond went on, oblivious to Legolas' shock, "this 'Zage' is a leader. Possibly even the one behind whatever it is their planning. Just as he died, he mentioned a place." He moved some papers off the map, and pointed to a marking south of Gondor. "The Harnen River."

All at once, it clicked.

"They're in the south," Caled said, amazed. She stared at the thin winding line marked _Harnen_. "They were never in the north but the south. They deliberately caused chaos far away from where they're based, so no fault in being discovered because they aren't there."

Gandalf nodded. "The letter also says that many people have gone missing along a stretch of the Harnen River." He pointed to the part of the river just beyond the inlet to the sea. "The area has never been populated, which may be fortunate. If there is such a thing as a 'nest' for the Reapers, it would be there."

"We're to go there?" Caled asked without preamble. "To Harnen River and see if there is a nest?"

Elrond and Gandalf exchanged a glance. "This is not an order, Lady Caled-Veleg," Elrond said slowly. "And I cannot ask you to go on such a---"

"Since when have I ever listened to a stinking elf?" Caled snapped. "Do not misunderstand me, Elrond. I want the Reapers eradicated. I want them gone. But my part in it---" Her eyes narrowed in silent warning as he opened his mouth. "---will be done without needing to be told. I do not need your permission to go somewhere I'm already determined to go to."

Legolas bit back a small laugh at the stunned look on Elrond's face. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Caled and I both decided long ago to act against the Reapers. In all honesty, Lord Elrond, we tallied here to gain information. While your help is appreciated, it is not necessary for this."

It was Gandalf's loud laughter that broke the silence. "Such spirit!" he exclaimed. "Neither of you have lost the rebellious nature of youth, I see. Well, since you're both so resolute about this, who are we to stop you?"

Caled and Legolas shared a brief grin as Elrond looked at Gandalf sharply.

"I only ask that you wait another few days. You need to supply for this journey. It will certainly be different from the last one. You'll be heading into desert country this time."

---

It was decided, mainly due to Caled's nagging, that they would leave in three days. Legolas could hardly contain his excitement the following day. He was more than ready to start and grew frustrated that they had to wait for trivial things. Then again, as Caled pointed out, water and proper food were not trivial.

Their excitement over the new lead was short lived, however. The morning before they departed, they were faced with the harsh reality of it being a very dangerous lead.

They began to fear what was about to happen.

---

After a short sparring session together---Caled insisted on it, to keep Legolas' shoulder 'on par'---the two were relaxing on Caled's balcony, idly chatting with one another. Mornie was asleep, half-resting on Caled's side as she lounged on the floor with her head propped on the railing. Legolas sat atop the railing, absently looking out over the courtyards during lulls in their conversations.

There was a knock at the door. Reluctantly, Legolas rose to answer it. Caled remained where she was, humming a soft tune to herself. A servant stood on the other side of the door, laden with two trays of a steaming hot lunch. Legolas quickly plucked the heavier tray out of her hand, smiling at her protests.

"It wouldn't do to drop both of them, would it?" he asked, teasing.

The servant looked as if she wanted to roll her eyes yet held herself in check. She followed Legolas into the room, placing her tray beside his. "If there is anything else you need, please let me know, my lord. My lady," she added as Caled pulled herself upright.

Caled eyed the food, breathing in the aroma. "I believe this will do. Thank you," she smiled at the servant.

The servant, as amazed as the others of her station were at Caled-Veleg's change in behavior, bowed and turned to leave. Just as she reached the door she stopped, giving a soft exclamation. "I nearly forgot! Mithrandir wanted to talk to you two before---"

It was hard to tell exactly what had happened next.

Caled was been making her way off the balcony and into the room when she tripped over something. She stumbled, catching hold of a chair to keep her balance. At that point, her position had been on line with the servant.

Legolas, turning when the servant mentioned Gandalf, only saw a black streak fly past. It passed over Caled, bent over in mind-stumble. It was so close Legolas saw her hair and clothes tear from its speed. She tensed, not wanting to move less she injure herself on whatever it was before it flew on.

Then it struck the servant in the forehead as she too turned to them.

There was a silent moment when no one moved. Then a sickening 'CRUNCH' rent the air. The door and the wall it was on were splattered in blood. The servant crumpled to the ground.

Her head was gone.

Neither Legolas nor Caled breathed. Mornie was stock still, yellow eyes wide in shock. Forcing himself, Legolas tore his eyes away from the gruesome sight. He saw Caled's face rapidly paling, her knees buckling.

Legolas ran to her, catching her before she fainted. He pulled her against him, shielding her eyes from the corpse. "Don't look!" he said firmly when she pushed back against him.

"She---She was just...talking," Caled whispered. Her eyes were still staring straight ahead of her, unseeing of Legolas' body.

"Don't think about it," Legolas told her. "Just don't think about it, Caled!"

"But she was talking," Caled insisted. "She was telling us something. Why? Why did---" She made a choking sound.

Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw Mornie dart out of the room, avoiding the blood.

"What happened? Why did her---her head---" Caled stammered.

"Don't think about it," Legolas said again. "Just---_coramin_, please. Don't dwell on it."

Legolas felt her tense. Then suddenly Caled latched onto him. He felt her small hands grip the back of his tunic, fisting the material as she pulled him to her. She bowed her head to his chest, shoulders jerking slightly as she held back her cries of shock.

The Elf wrapped his arms around her, drawing comfort from her presence. He lowered his head, resting his cheek against her hair and forcing his heart to stop thudding so loudly.

_What had happened?_

There was no way that had been an accident. More like a bizarre twist of fate. Whatever had struck the servant had been aimed at Caled. If she had not tripped when she did...

Legolas tightened his grip on the trembling girl in his arms.

A flash of movement ahead of them caught his eye. Not wanting to further upset Caled, Legolas slowly raised his head enough to see what it was. Had Caled not been so shaken up, she would have noticed how still he became.

A Reaper was crouched on the railing.

----------

A. N. -- You know what? I LOVE cliffhangers! (cue evil cackling) Ok seriously, this was the best spot to stop at, so cope.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	36. Chpt XXX: Southwards

Chapter Thirty - Southwards

The was a glare from behind the crouched figure, obscuring its features. But there was no denying the wild hair and long, sharp fingers, nor the deep violet skin.

A Reaper.

Legolas did not know what to do. His weapons were all out of reach and he could not get to his long knives without releasing Caled. He had no desire to alert her to the creature's presence, shaken as she was.

The Reaper cocked its head, a soft murmur of a chuckle showing its amusement at Legolas' inner struggle.

Legolas fought to keep from leaping at the foul being. Was this the reason the servant's head exploded? Just the memory of that sent a shiver of disgust through Legolas. Had the Reaper meant to kill the maid?

Or had it been aiming for Caled? Had its intent been to kill her instead?

As if sensing his thoughts, the Reaper soundlessly moved off the railing. It silently advanced toward them, topaz eyes flashing above a grinning mouth.

Legolas steeled his nerves, knowing there was no other way but to fight---

A form shot up from the ground, placing itself between the Reaper and Legolas and Caled. It streaked across the distance, barreling into the Reaper. It was thrown back, striking the railing with a loud '**CRACK**.'

Caled whirled around, jumping slightly.

Hunched a few feet away, eyeing the dazed Reaper, was a second Reaper. This one drew Legolas' attention for a couple of reasons. Namely the fact that the mane was black streaked with silvery white instead of just having the front striped. Another was a sudden thought that this Reaper was wearing clothes. Taken they were ragged, filthy, and big on the thin frame, but it was the first time he recalled even noticing clothes on one of them. Which of course brought the realization that none of the Reapers had features that separated them as 'male' or 'female.'

Then another realization drove all other thought away. Legolas knew this Reaper. He had seen it in visions. He had _conversed_ with it.

"You," Caled whispered, taking a small step toward the Reaper.

The Reaper spun around, white-on-black eyes wide and filled with fear. There was something slightly feminine about the face, making Legolas believe it was indeed female. She jerked her eyes from Legolas to Caled, tense.

A shiver ran down Legolas' spine. A tickling voice whispered.

**_/...useless...feeble...unworthy of her own gift, the foul thing..._**

Then the Reaper slowly backed away. When she reached the first Reaper, she grabbed it by the arm.

Before their eyes, the two vanished.

---

Mornie returned shortly after with Elrond, Gandalf, and several others. Legolas and Caled had moved out of the room, not wanting to be in there with the body any longer. Caled was still shaking slightly but was otherwise fine. Legolas took her to his room, insisting she take a drink of wine to settle herself. He took some as well, surprised to see how uneasy his own grip was.

After they had a few cupfuls, Caled took a breath. "What was that about?" she said, raising her eyes from the wine in her cup to look at Legolas.

"No idea," he said, shrugging.

Caled lowered her eyes for a moment then said hesitantly, "Do you think they know?"

Legolas did not have to ask what she meant. The thought had crossed his mind as well: Zage, if he was indeed a leader of the Reapers, could have gotten word about their plans to investigate the Harnen River and decided to eliminate them. After all, they had just seen two Reapers vanish in to thin air, no doubt retreating.

"I would not doubt it," he answered. "It was good luck that you tripped when you did, else---"

"I didn't trip."

Legolas blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Caled's gaze was unwavering yet she bit her lip, considering her words. "I didn't trip," she said again. "There was nothing on the floor for me to trip over. I---I felt something grab my foot. I think it was a hand." The last sentence she whispered, as if unsure she should say it.

Legolas mulled her words over, frowning. "You're saying that someone or something made you trip?"

Caled flushed yet not from embarrassment. "This may sound even crazier, Elf, but---" she glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. She scooted to the edge of the chair she was sitting in, leaning closer to him. "I know that Reaper, the one with black and white hair."

Seeing as how he too had recognized it, Legolas did not reply and waited to see if she would elaborate.

She did. "In Orthanc, in my cell, there was this mirror---I'm sure you saw it," she added, voice becoming a bit sadder. "It's the one thing I know is a fact about those days: I had a mirror in my cell."

Legolas nodded. "I saw it," he said simply.

Caled shifted, absently turning her cup between her hands. "At times, like I said before, I felt that someone was watching me from the mirror. Or around it, one of the two. Maybe both. Anyway, the day Orthanc was attacked, when the Orc was sent to kill me, a Reaper came through the mirror and saved me. _That_ Reaper. I've never seen another Reaper with black and white hair. And those eyes," she raised her red orbs back to Legolas, pity washing through them, "I don't think I'll ever forget those eyes. Even remembering them months later I would feel like crying. She just radiated remorse and loneliness. Even though I was not in my right mind I felt sorry for her."

"You believe she's a female?" Legolas inquired.

Caled stopped, blinking. "I never thought of that before. Yes, I do think she's a she. It was just one of those things about her I noticed." She gave a semi-shrug with one shoulder, sipping her wine. She frowned, "Like the fact she's clothed."

Legolas could not help the laugh her words brought out. It took a second before Caled laughed softly at herself as well.

---

An intensive search of Rivendell and the surrounding area was conducted. Yet it was in vain. The Reaper responsible for the servant's death and the Reaper that escaped with it were nowhere to be found. Everyone was disturbed by the hideous incident, wondering what new evil had befallen the land.

At Gandalf's insistence, Caled, Legolas and Mornie left before dawn of the decided day. It was a silent affair, all tense in case one of the Reapers reappeared. Elrond gave them a few last instructions and a map to aid their travel.

Their tentative path was to follow the Bruien until it crossed the old North-South Road at Tharbad. Then they would follow the road south, through the Gap of Rohan, then east into Gondor. There they would inquire about the surest route, whether to go through the mountains or follow the trail into Minas Tirith. Regardless, the whole journey would take at the very least another year.

Legolas marveled at how different the start of their travel was to their previous one. The atmosphere, though tinged with apprehension of Reaper attacks, was more light hearted and comfortable between him and Caled. Conversation was easy going, the silent spells were not thick with the expectation of a verbal fight, and Caled was no longer avoiding him. The only thing that was similar was the way Caled referred to him.

_Elf._

The Woodland Prince could not understand her refusal to say his name. It was the one barrier she kept between them. Every time she said it, he had to hold back his questions. After all, he did not want to risk the bond they now shared. It was far too precious to him so wager on so little a thing.

Still, it did get annoying.

After only a week's travel, they had passed the conjunction of the Bruien and Mitheithel. They paused for a rest beside the flowing river around midday. Caled and Mornie were laying on the grass while Legolas resting against a tree, keeping an eye on the trail.

"Your homeland is Mirkwood, correct?" Caled unexpectedly asked, twisting her head to look up at Legolas. Mornie shifted in his sleep, curling against her side.

"Yes, it is," Legolas said. "What you saw a while back was a poor example of it."

"Oh?" Caled smirked. "It's not really so dreary? Well, shatter my image of the place, why don't you?"

Legolas snorted. "Dreary? Mirkwood? Oh no. You should see it in the peak of spring, Caled. When all the trees are in their finest of green colorings. The flowers and vines that erupt on the ground are quite a surprise. They have a short life, you see," he added.

Caled closed her eyes, resting her head on a hand. "Tell me about it, then. What other surprises does it hold?"

For maybe an hour or so, though it felt shorter, Legolas told her of Mirkwood and its annual changes. About the festivals and harvest banquets. The variety of animal life. The huge spiders and tales of when he and his brothers tried to take on a whole flock of the giant arachnids. Of when travelers still walked the Old Forest Road. About the great Eagles and even Beorn.

Legolas hardly noticed the time passing. Nor could he recall when Caled had sat up and moved closer to him, her face alight with interest. Just as she absorbed every word he spoke, he simply enjoyed the chance to drink in the sight of her sitting there.

For a moment the weight of their destination was lifted. For just that short stretch of time, they were simply Legolas and Caled-Veleg, resting beside a river and talking to one another. Merely enjoying each other's company.

Caled let out a sigh, plucking at the grass beneath her. "I wish I could see it," she said in a quiet voice. "Mirkwood, I mean. In the spring..."

"I'll show you."

Caled tensed slightly, a slight frown marring her face for a second. She searched Legolas' face for any sign humor.

There was none.

"I'll show you Mirkwood in spring," Legolas said. His gaze was steady, holding hers intently. "And summer. And fall. And even winter." His hand reached out, lightly resting on hers.

Caled did not retreat.

"I'll show you all you want to see, _coramin_."

A flush colored her cheeks. "I'd---"

A sharp cry pierced the air.

The two jerked back, instantly on their feet. Caled activated the whip she had been given and Legolas gripped his long knife, ready to confront whatever it was.

Yet both froze at the sight that met them.

A woman was huddled on the ground. She was a ways down the trail and slightly off of the path. A basket was laying on the grass beside her, fallen bundles of plants and leaves scattered around her.

A second later, as the woman let out another cry, they saw her hand clasped against her swollen belly.

Caled rushed to the woman, calling, "What happened? Are you all right?" Mornie hastily changed into his young man form while Legolas activated his disguise ring.

The woman looked up, her strained face barely showing any surprise at seeing them there. "H-Help me," she gasped. "It's---I think it's time!"

Caled's eyes widened, staring at the woman's belly. "You mean---baby?" she stammered.

The woman nodded, gritting her teeth against another wave of pain. "I thought I had another week," she ground out. "Please, my home is not far, can yo---" She stopped, her words stretching into a groan.

Caled and Legolas exchanged a worried glance, wondering what on earth they should do. Neither had much experience in birthing a child and did not think they could handle it adequately.

Mornie quickly gathered up the woman's fallen basket then said to Legolas, "Pick her up. We may be able to get to her home before too long. Hurry!" he insisted when the Elf did not move.

---

As it turned out, the woman's village was just a short distance away. They arrived in the nick of time. Not even ten minutes after they walked through her doorway the house was filled with the cry of a newborn.

The delighted father insisted on rewarding the three of them. They tried to decline, saying they were on an important errand. When they mentioned Tharbad, the man told them that there was a caravan in town that would be heading that way in two days. He stated that in such dangerous days, traveling in numbers was wise.

Unable to dissuade the man, Legolas, Caled, and Mornie agreed to wait for the caravan. In return for ensuring the safe delivery of his son, he gave them lodgings in his estate. As they were being led to the estate, they noticed preparations for what looked to be a celebration.

"Is something going on?" Caled inquired of the man.

He stopped to frown at them in puzzlement, his thick eyebrows forming a single line. "You do not know? This is the yearly Winter Moon festival. Tomorrow night is the time the moon is at its brightest. We shall celebrate its glory all night without rest."

"Why is it we have the weirdest luck?" Caled murmured to Legolas. "We seem to always find some kind of obstacle we can't avoid."

Legolas shrugged. "Look at it this way: would the Reaper openly attack us with this many people around?"

"I've never know the Reapers to be considerate of innocent lives," Caled said dryly. "Yet I don't think they will." She rolled her eyes. "Let's hope this caravan doesn't try to go with us all the way to Harnen. Or con us into going wherever they go."

Mornie grinned at Caled, his golden eyes flashing. "Perhaps you might actually enjoy this festival. It could do you some good."

Something about the sureness in his tone made Legolas pause. What was he scheming this time?

----------

A. N. -- Ick, not happy with all the transitions here. Or the cut off. Still, some stuff is better left in whole chapters.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	37. Chpt XXXI: Friction: Met

A. N.-- (collapses) Gah, this was long. Uh, ok, disclaimer/warning thingy: non-sexual nudity here. Cover the kiddies' eyes, people.

(mad laugh) enjoy!

---

Chapter Thirty One – Friction: Met

Caled mentally counted to ten. Then swore if she ever met whatever deity she had royally pissed off, she would kill him.

It did not work. The high-pitched squeals and cooing still grated on her ears.

_And I thought the servants at Rivendell were annoying,_ she mentally drawled.

Not only was the woman they had helped married to one of the richer citizens of the town, they were also the only doctors for miles around. Apparently she had been out gathering herbs for the day when she went into labor.

Their home was a combination of dwelling place and treatment center for the area. This of course meant that it was far too large for one person to care for. They had a whole set of servants and helpers that flitted around the building, cleaning this and preparing that for surgery.

It felt like half of them had 'flitted' into Caled's presence.

Several maids had crowded into the rooms they had been lent, latching onto Caled. The maids were literally gushing, exciting at the trio's arrival. Caled had foolishly agreed to allow them to show her around the estate, not knowing they would stop to giggle with one another every two minutes. They chatted about the upcoming festivities and tried to get Caled to join them.

To be honest Caled was a bit curious about this Winter Moon thing that was going on. She had never before been to a festival and was tempted to pose a few questions of her own.

If only her current audience were not giving her a headache.

"Miss?"

Caled blinked, looking around. Seeing the expectant faces around her, she assumed she had been asked something. "Sorry, what?"

The maids exchanged grins. One, who was the self-appointed leader of the group, said, "Do you have an escort for tomorrow?"

Caled frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Again, giggles. "For the festival. I can only assume that since you and your companions are staying here that you will be attending the festival."

"What does that have to do with an escort?" Caled snapped, detaching herself from the group and moving to look more closely at the plants that lined the grassy walkway. They were currently in an open hallway that connected the living area and examination area of the building.

Even with her back to them she knew they were once again grinning at one another. What on earth was so funny?

"Well, escorts are a bit of a tradition you see," said the maid, speaking as though to a small child. "You can prearrange your escort or decide who it will be once you get there. There are a number of young men who are too shy to ask, you see?"

She was leading this somewhere. Caled did not know where, but she knew she would not like it. "What does that have to do with me?"

The maid flashed her a dazzling smile. "If you wish, we could find you an escort. Unless, of course, you already have one."

Caled resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I've only just arrived here, not to mention that fact that until now I've never heard of this Moon thingy. Of course I do not have an escort."

That sent the maids into hysterical giggles. The lead maid looked oddly triumphant.

A thought struck Caled. "Why do you wish to know?" she asked slowly.

The maid gave a slight bow. "Forgive me if I'm being too presumptuous, Miss. But would I be right in guessing that neither of your companions have escorts as well? As you said: you all have only just learned of the festival."

The smile Caled gave her was ice cold. "I think I've seen enough. I'll return now, thank you." She brushed through the knot of servants, swiftly making her exit.

As she turned the corner, the servants put their heads together, whispering and giggling. The lead maid smirked as one of the others asked, "When will you ask him, Corin?"

Corin straightened her shoulders and stated, "As soon as possible. Just because that fool of a girl can't see him for what he's worth, why should I allow anyone else the chance to be his escort?"

The others instantly offered their support, fawning up to her.

"Well then," Corin said imperiously, "come along. We still have chores that need to be down. It wouldn't do if we could not attend the---"

The last of the sentence turned into a shriek of fright, mingled with the same of those around her.

Corin found herself knee deep in the cold ground, the plants around her wrapped around her thighs to prohibit any chance of escape.

---

Caled grinned, sticking her tongue out at the trapped maid from her hiding place. _Serves you right, snobbish hag,_ Caled thought, turning on her heel and moving away from the chaos behind her.

Though she had vented a bit---albeit in an immature way---Caled was still cross at the maid's words. Honestly, she should have seen it coming. Hadn't she noticed the stares they had when the three of them entered this place? It was no wonder the servants had cornered her like that.

They sought the Elf's favor and thought Caled would put in a good word if nothing else.

What was she? A go-to girl? If the stupid idiots wanted to talk to him why didn't they just up and do so? Why sneak around?

Caled frowned, recalling the tone with which Corin had spoken of Legolas. 'See him for what he's worth'? As if that girl had any idea! She was lucky Caled had not ignited her cap for that. Who did they think they were, trying to seek Legolas' favor? They had most certainly imagined themselves on his arm the following night, the envy of all other women.

Caled ground her teeth together, nearby plants wavering in response to the anger the thought gave her. They had some nerve assuming he was as shallow and thick headed as they were. As if he would ever give them the time of day---

All at once Caled froze. Why was she so angry about this? Why did this upset her so? It was not as if they had openly harmed her in any way. Why was she so mad?

With a rush it hit her, her face reddening.

Her hand flailed around, gripping the wall for support. She was upset with the way the woman had tried to use her, certainly. But more than that, Caled had been infuriated by the way the woman had blatantly assumed that Legolas would jump at the chance to be her escort to this flaming festival. The fact that she thought so little of the Elf enraged Caled.

Caled did not need to question why.

She knew why.

It did not make the ache any better.

_(trash)_

Caled's free hand lifted, absently pressing against her stomach. She cringed, vividly recalling the image of her bare flesh.

_(coramin)_

...Would he still say that if he knew?

---

It was well past sunset and still Caled had not returned. Legolas refrained from pacing, knowing that Caled could take care of herself and that he should not worry. But where could she be?

A snort of laughter made Legolas look up. Across the room Mornie was lounging in a plush armchair by the fireplace, smirking back at his frown. "Fretting like a mother hen, aren't we?" the shape shifter asked

"No," Legolas snapped. He grimaced at how childish he had just sounded. "Just...worried. It's been hours, Mornie. Where is she?"

Mornie closed one eye, face screwing up in concentration. "In the gardens," he said, pointing just over his shoulder. "Where she has been since leaving that group of maids." His smirk widened. "Your fan club."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say," he said with a sigh.

"Deny it if you will," Mornie said with a shrug. When Legolas did not reply, just stood there staring out the window, the shape shifter's smirk faded.

He had gauged from the near violent barrage of emotions Caled had generated a few hours back that the maids had said or done something. Yet when no pain came, he assumed Caled had dealt with it or left. Yet the cycling waves of doubt, fear, and nervousness he was getting from her worried him. More so than he let on.

It was obvious what the maids had dragged her away for. One in particular had radiated more than just desire at the sight of Legolas. Mornie was thankful to be in his human guise, certain that in his cat like form he would have choked from the pheromones.

Yet he worried about what had been said or done to Caled. About whether it dealt with the one before him.

Mornie closed his gold eyes, sighing quietly. He would not meddle, he simply could not. From the moment he had set eyes on Caled he had sworn to protect her. Just the memory of the worn, sorry state she had been in roused his protective nature. Now, she was healthier, more stable, and even happier than he had ever imagined she would be.

There was no curse to worry about now. No fear that she would be hurt by its effects, even those she was not aware of.

But he would not meddle.

"Will you attend this festival?"

Legolas turned to him, surprised at the question. "What?"

Mornie gave a small shrug. "It could do you some good," he said simply. "A chance to relax before starting again. We may not get another, you know."

There was a pause before Legolas answered, "I guess. It could be interesting."

Mornie flashed a grin at the Prince. "Yes. Yes, it could."

He could not meddle.

But he could certainly pull a few strings.

---

The day dawned with excited fervor. The whole town perfected the preparations for the Winter Moon festival. Booths for games and food were erected, decorated in hopes of catching the eye. Merchants and salesmen for miles around flocked to the town, setting up their wares to sell. A troupe of musicians even began to warm up for the long night of revelry.

The air itself was enough to excite you. Even Caled could not ignore that. Despite her mood of the previous day she found herself eagerly waiting for nightfall.

After the noon meal, Caled stood just inside the entrance of the estate, watching the last minute preparations. Mornie sat on the ground beside her. Legolas was leaning against the doorframe of the entrance.

"You don't think THEY will show up, do you?" Caled asked, making sure no one else was nearby to eavesdrop.

"The you-know-whats?" Mornie shook his head. "No, if they were going to they would have done so already." He stifled a yawn, failing badly.

"Don't tell me you're tired," Caled said, crouching down so that they were level and scrutinizing him closely. "You slept two hours later than I did."

Mornie raised a brow. "Some of need more sleep than others. Besides, when did you actually get to bed?"

Caled looked away, avoiding Legolas' eye and muttering, "You're so nosy."

Mornie was silent before saying, "Still, you two better be careful tonight. You never know what will happen."

Caled's brow creased. "What do you mean?"

"You're not coming with us?" Legolas said at the same time.

The shape shifter gave them both a strange smile. Before he could say anything, a servant came through the doors. "Excuse me?" he said, catching their attention. "The Lady of the house wishes to see you two," he said with a bow to Legolas and Caled.

Caled rose but gave Mornie a questioning glance over her shoulder as they turned to follow the servant. He resolutely watched the preparations, whistling to himself.

The servant led them into the nearby parlor. The Lady of the house, Liza, looked up on their entry. She sat in a large rocking chair, her newborn baby asleep in the crook of her arm. She smiled at them, carefully standing. The babe did nothing more than shift at the movement.

"Wonderful!" she said. "You're both here. Now, we must hurry, I'm not sure there will be enough time. You know it's horrible to attend such an event late." She shooed them through an adjoining door, leading to a spare bedroom. The two scarcely had time to exchange a confused glance before she was speaking again. It seemed child birth had not hindered her from being able to speak faster than they could hear. "Now then you, my good man, will be in here," she said to Legolas. "My dear friend Maryanne will be here shortly. Oh, that must be her now," she added when there was a loud knock from the direction of the front door.

"We must be off, she does not like to work with an audience." Liza hooked her free arm around Caled's, steering her out of the room and up the stairs to the second level. Caled barely had time to throw a startled look at Legolas before the door swung shut. "Now, my dear girl, it may take us some time but I am confident we can find something to put you in."

Caled opened her mouth to respond. Liza suddenly squinted at her, frowning in a way that worried Caled so that she forgot what she was going to say. "You know I've never seen someone with your eyes," Liza said when she turned away. "Not that they're anything to frown at, mind you. It just narrows down the playing field slightly."

"What are you talking about?" Caled finally interjected. It was near impossible to form a thought the way this woman talked!

Liza stopped, surprised. "My dear, we must get you ready for the festival! You certainly can't attend in that."

Caled looked down at the clothes she had on. They _were_ a bit on the worn side. Truth be told, she had felt a bit awkward walking next to Liza in her elegant clothing. She had never really thought of finding something a bit more formal. Traveling across the world and fighting murderous creatures left and right did not endear one to fashion.

Liza had continued speaking during Caled musings. "In all sincerity, my girl, I have been thinking all night on how to repay you for helping me. I shudder to think of what would have happened to me and William here had you not been there." She paused to coo at the sleeping babe. "And it just seemed to come to me in my sleep---almost in a dream! I'll make certain you enjoy this festival, in the finest clothes I can offer you.

"I don't have any clothing that will fit that young man back there. 'Legolas' is it? Hmm, curious name. Anyway, my dear husband is a bit bigger in the belly and never had an eye for tasteful clothing. Thankfully Maryanne is a seamstress and has a whole wardrobe of fine tunics he can pick from. She'll make him look positively dashing! Not that he already isn't, my dear.

"As for you, well, I have a plentiful supply. They are hand-me-downs, yes, but there are certainly some surprises hidden in this old room of mine."

Caled's mouth dropped open. Liza had just pulled her into a large bedroom that was filled with countless gowns. All colors and fabrics flashed at her from every corner of the room, hanging from rods, peeking through the gaps in the wardrobes that lined the walls, standing on the tailor dummies that dotted the floor. There were all sizes and styles from puffy or slim to layered or slips.

Liza smiled at the look of awe on Caled's face. "Go on dear, start looking," she said, gently prodding her into the room.

Caled's eyes widened. "Oh, I can't!" she tried to protest. "These are far too beautiful for me to wear. I couldn't---" She stopped at the frown Liza gave her.

"The words 'too beautiful to wear' never appear in my vocabulary together," Liza stated. She breezed through the racks of clothing, shifting among the sea of cloth without jostling her baby. "Now I'm thinking of something simple. Definitely not like this," she motioning to a large gown with a sweeping train and gauzy trim. "No, something that won't make you cross eyed. Dear me, this may take longer than I thought."

"Pardon me for asking," Caled spoke up, wading through the room to get to Liza, "but what about Mornie? My other companion?"

Liza blinked. "Darling, I was told he wouldn't be attending. Was I wrong? Maryanne won't be annoyed to look at him either, I sure, but it needs to be done quick---"

"No, no," Caled interrupted, trying to give a laugh. "I just wasn't sure if he was going. He didn't say." She tuned out Liza's words, thinking.

Liza had said that the idea to give them clothes had come to her as if in a dream. Mornie himself had been hinting for the _two_ of them enjoy the festival. Had he planned this?

A few hours later, when she saw the dress Liza pulled out to show her, Caled decided she didn't care if he had.

---

It was nearly time for the Winter Moon festival to begin. The servants and maids of the estate began to trickle out into the front yards, awaiting their employers. Everyone was dressed in their finest, arm in arm with their chosen escorts of the night.

Legolas stood just off of the front landing, within view of the door. He had not seen Caled since Liza had whisked her away hours ago, leaving him to deal with Maryanne.

Over all, he was impressed with the seamstress. She had brought with her a fine selection of garments and had been patient as Legolas trudged through them. The only time she had gotten snappish was when he kept tugging at the collars. A quick alteration was enough to alleviate that problem, but the back of his hand was still sore from the number of times she had smacked it.

He wore a long sleeved tunic of deep emerald, patterned with scattered leaves. A high collared over tunic of silver grey was strapped over his chest and gartered by a belt, accenting his lean physique. His breeches were more comfortable than he would have guessed, a smooth dark leather that did not pull when he moved. His feet were shod with soft black boots that rolled down to mid calf. He had left his hair loose for the night, not sure what to do with it.

More than once since he had come outside the same woman tried to catch his eye. She was without an escort, which Legolas found odd. She was a highly attractive woman in his opinion and should not have had any problem in finding a companion. Still, she stood alone, sending a slow smile his way whenever his gaze wandered in her direction.

He withheld a sigh, absently fingering his disguise ring. Denya had crafted it for him not too long ago. It was a simple band of silver with a single vein of gold running along the center, resting on the middle finger of his right hand. The disguise it generated merely rounded his ears. Apparently Denya had felt it unnecessary to alter anything else.

A murmur ran through the group gathered near the front door. Legolas turned to see Liza and her husband emerge, the former looking very pleased with herself. They descended the steps and Liza looked back, saying, "Come on, dearie. You'll miss the fun!" Those closet to the door began to whisper, the hissing excitement traveling through the rest. Then Liza and her husband stepped away, leaving the view to the door clear.

Legolas' breath caught the sight before him.

Caled was making her way through the group clustered around the door. She wore a dress that was a pale, ice blue. It was of a simple yet elegant design. The square neckline was a modest cut, stopping just after her collarbones, yet the lace design that ran up the sides of the bodice accented her bust all the more. It was snug on her frame until her waist where it flowed out into loose folds, accenting her natural curves. The material there gathered on her left hip, enhancing the swirl the material made whenever she turned, brushing the tops of the white slippers on her feet. She also wore a matching cloak to ward off the cold. It had sleeves that melded seamlessly with the cut of the dress, the hem falling to her knees.

As if feeling his stare, Caled looked over at him. Half of her hair was pulled back in a bun at back of her head, the rest flowing around her in a curtain of satin sandy blonde. Her cheeks were red with embarrassment from the stares she was receiving.

She quickened her pace in his direction yet had to stop. Several young men had stepped into her path, each puffing out their chest and trying catch her eye. Caled stepped back, startled. Her eyes darted from one to another as she tried to excuse herself. She never got a word out before another oaf started speaking.

Legolas saw red for a moment. How dare those little boys corner his Caled like that!

Setting a smile on his face, Legolas moved forward. Easily moving past the men in his way, he extended a hand to Caled. "Ready at last, Caled?" he said in a clear voice, drowning out the others.

Caled smiled, her face brightening. "Yes, finally," she said, gripping his hand in relief.

Legolas set her hand on his arm, winking at her as they walked by the now silent would-be suitors. The two moved into step behind Liza and her husband, who were whispering to each other in a nostalgic way.

As everyone began to move to the town square, Caled caught sight of Corin. The maid was staring after them, furious. Caled could not help but smirk back.

In a room on the second floor of the house, a pair of golden eyes watched the pair of them. A smile crinkled the eyes before they closed.

---

The exact middle of the town square held a large platform. Several people milled around the structure, shouting advertisements for some of the things available for sell at the booths. When the party arrived from the estate, the Master of Ceremonies stepped up onto the platform.

He began by speaking of the Winter Moon and how it was the reason for the prosperous year, that this year's Winter Moon was a good one and that this year would be prosperous, blah blah blah. He droned on and one, oblivious to the fact that most of those around him were barely listening.

"I'm beginning to think this is all just an excuse to have a huge party," Caled whispered to Legolas as the man went into a spill about how the yellow hue of the moon meant a good year for progress and change.

Legolas chuckled. "I've found that is one wants to have a celebration, they do not look very far for a reason."

"Too true," Caled sighed.

The crowd then cheered as the Master of Ceremonies reached the end of his speech. He gave a dramatic sweep of his arms, motioning to the last light of the setting sun. He announced the that Winter Moon festival had begun.

There was a prolong cheer before he stepped away. The troupe of musicians settled onto the platform, making a few last minute preparations. People began to migrate to the clear area around the platform, a slightly raised wooden dais. As the troupe started a lively beat, the dance began.

Legolas and Caled wandered around to the booths, each deliberately avoiding a look to the dance area. They busied themselves looking over the wares on sale, making a few purchases for things they needed. They sampled the food, bravely tasting something that looked like a large rat on a stick. Neither could remember when they had laughed so much. Or simply enjoyed themselves like this.

Caled paused by a jewelry stand when one of the displays caught her eye, Legolas at the next stand haggling with the vendor over the price of a quiver. It was a necklace with a crescent moon pendant. In the crook of the moon sat the small figure of a child. She gently touched the necklace, marveling at the simple beauty it held. She wished she could buy it but they needed to be frugal.

She sighed, moving away. Perhaps another time. When she turned away to see if Legolas was done, she nearly ran into Corin.

Corin gave a theatrical jerk of surprise. "Oh! So sorry, Miss. I didn't see you there."

Caled forced a smile onto her face. "No harm done, Corin," she said through gritted teeth.

Corin's eyes raised to meet Legolas' as he joined them. "Good evening, sir," she said. She gave a curtsy that revealed far too much cleavage to be purely accident. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, thank you," Legolas said, absently wondering if this woman was stalking him.

Corin's face puckered in a look of innocent hope. "I was wondering, sir. Could I have a dance? With you?" She motioned to the dancing area, the slit in her skirt somehow parting to show an ample amount of leg. Ignoring the whistle a passing drunk gave at the display, she added, "I've noticed that you haven't danced yet. It would be a shame to forgo such a pleasure as that."

Caled bit the inside of her cheek, telling herself NOT to set Corin's hair on fire.

"My apologies," Legolas said coolly, "but I'm afraid I can't."

For a moment Corin's face twisted in a most ugly way. Then she smoothed it over, asking in a voice of strained patience, "Why not, if I may ask?"

Legolas caught Caled's hand in his. "I owe my lovely companion one," he said with a smile

A look of fury passed over Corin at those words.

Surprised, Caled was tugged away from Corin as Legolas moved to the dance area. When she turned to him, she saw he wore a hopeful if hesitant expression. "That is...if you don't mind?" he whispered. He paused just before the dais. He faced her, taking her other hand. "May I have this dance, Caled?"

For a moment, Caled did nothing. Then her hands squeezed his. "Yes."

The smile he gave her sent a wave of warmth through her.

They moved onto the dance floor as the troupe began a new song. Taking one of her hands in his, Legolas rested his other on her waist. Caled set hers on his shoulder, whispering, "I'm not that good at dancing. If I step on your feet, deal with it."

"Just follow my lead," Legolas said, chuckling.

Thankfully the song was slower yet still had an easy beat to count to. Legolas moved into the steps for a waltz, slowing the pace and whispering the counts to Caled. She bit her lip, concentrating on moving correctly. Gradually she began to move without needing him to prompt her.

The words issuing from the troupe washed over them, mingling somewhere in the back of their minds.

_I never knew_

_I never knew that everything_

_Was falling through_

_That everyone I knew_

_Was waiting on a queue_

_To turn and run_

_When all I needed was the truth_

_But that's how it's got to be_

_It's coming down to_

_Nothing more than apathy_

_I'd rather run the other way_

_Than stay and see_

_The smoke and who's still_

_Standing when it clears_

_Everyone knows I'm in _

_Over my head_

_Over my head_

_With eight seconds left in overtime_

_She's on your mind_

_She's on your mind._

They moved across the dance floor as if they had been doing this for years. Caled was a natural. She had caught the flow of the song and the dance perfectly. She kept glancing at the floor, determined to step in the right area. Yet occasionally Caled would raise her eyes to meet Legolas', smiling nervously.

In those moments, illuminated by the Winter Moon over head, Legolas was awed by the charming beauty in his arms.

_Let's rearrange_

_I wish you were a stranger_

_I could disengage_

_Say that we agree_

_And then never change_

_Soften a bit_

_Until we all just get along_

_But that's disregard_

_You find another friend_

_And you discard_

_As you lose the argument_

_In a cable car_

_Hanging above_

_As the canyon comes between._

_And suddenly_

_I become a part of your past_

_I'm becoming the part_

_That don't last_

_I'm losing you_

_And its effortless._

"Want to try something?" Legolas whispered.

"What?" Caled hissed back. "It's a miracle I haven't fallen on my face and you want to complicate this!"

"You're doing fine," Legolas assured her. He glanced over her head. She had not noticed that the other dancers had stopped and were watching them.

"What then?" Caled snapped, eyes flashing in warning.

"Just follow my lead."

She shot him a glare.

"Trust me," he pressed.

Caled bit her lip again, then nodded.

_Without a sound_

_We lose sight of the ground _

_In the throw around_

_Never thought that you wanted_

_To bring it down_

_I won't let it go down_

_'Till we torch it ourselves_

_And everyone knows I'm in _

_Over my head_

_Over my head_

_With eight seconds left in overtime_

_She's on your mind_

_She's on your mind._

_Everyone knows_

_She's on your mind_

_Everyone knows I'm in over my head_

_I'm in over my head_

_I'm over my..._

_Everyone knows I'm in _

_Over my head_

_Over my head_

_With eight seconds left in overtime_

_She's on your mind_

_She's on your mind._

"Now!" Legolas hissed as the music reached a crescendo. He released her waist, tightening his grip on hand. She swung out then spun back to him, her skirt whirling around her. As he caught her, he bent to one side, dipping her easily.

Caled blinked up at him, her expression one of surprised delight. She laughed when she realized what they had pulled off. He stood, pulling her around back to her feet as the song drifted to a close.

Applause exploded in their ears. The dancers and spectators had moved to give them space, forming a circle around them.

Caled gripped Legolas' arm, hiding her face in the front of his tunic. "I can't believe I just did that!" she exclaimed.

"You've never danced in front of people before?" Legolas asked. A new song began, a soft, slow melody. He wrapped his other arm around her, gently swaying to the music.

Caled shook her head, raising it up to look at him. "Never. I never really had the chance."

Legolas mentally kicked himself. "I'm sorry," he began. "I wasn't think---"

"It's ok," Caled cut in gently. "Don't worry about it." A flush colored her cheeks. She slowly raised her arms, looping them around his neck. Neither broke eye contact.

They danced through that song, and the next one, and the next. The night wore on and the crowd did not die down. If anything it grew.

Legolas felt Caled tense suddenly. She was glaring at something over his shoulder. "I'm going to kill that hag!" she muttered.

Shooting a quick glance over his shoulder, Legolas saw Corin making her way to them. Right behind her was one of the young men that had cornered Caled earlier. The man was staring at Caled---no, leering would be a better word. He then rubbed his hand eagerly, licking his lips.

A rush of heat at the back of his neck alerted Legolas. Caled was preparing a fireball and the gleam in her eyes was enough to tell him where she was planning to put it.

"Let's go," he said under his breath, leading her away from the dance floor.

Caled made a sound of disappointment.

They maneuvered through the crowd, picking up speed to lose their pursuers. Legolas was beginning to wonder if they should just head back to the estate when Caled tugged his arm. She pointed to a gap between two stalls that lead into the woods. He nodded and they slipped through.

They had not taken ten steps when they heard Corin and the man trying to follow them. From the sounds of it, Corin had knocked over a bottle and the vendor was demanding payment. Legolas led Caled deeper into the trees, keeping a close look at how far they had gone. When all they heard were the sounds of the musicians, they stopped.

Caled was furious. "How dare that little hack try to pull such a stunt!" she raged. "Before we leave, I swear I'm going to---to---Oh! Something! I'll do something to her to make sure she'll never forget this."

Legolas merely nodded. He too was simmering in anger. Just the thought of that poor excuse of a man coming near Caled sent Legolas' jaw grinding. And the way he had looked at her.

His fist clenched tightly. Legolas swore that before they left he would find that man and---

A small hand closed around his fist. "What got you so worked up?" Caled asked, concerned.

Legolas paused, wondering if he should voice the reason. While she had been showing more of an attachment to him, he was not certain whether or not she would shove a fireball down his throat if he said he was jealous.

Jealous. Ever since Caled had left the estate men had stared at her, enamored. And every time Legolas caught sight of another pair of lustful eyes wandering over her figure his blood would boil.

At last he said, "Don't worry about it, _coramin_. I just---what is it?"

Caled had pulled away suddenly. There was a strange expression on her face. A mix of uncertainty and doubt. Her hands wrung in front of her, shaking slightly.

"What is it?" Legolas said again, mind racing to see if he had done something to warrant this.

"Wh---what do you mean by...by that?" she stammered. "What do you mean when you say it?"

Her stuttering more than anything was what sent a bolt of trepidation through his gut. "I don't---" he began.

"That word," Caled cut in. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Her hands pressed against her stomach as if in pain. Yet when her eyes opened, they were not shining with pain.

They shone with fear.

Again, she tried to speak and again, nothing. She turned away, swallowing. Then her voice worked. "_C-coramin_," stumbled out of her mouth, a slight edge to the word. "What do you mean when you say it?"

Legolas stared at her back, unable to understand why this was affecting her so. Then a thought occurred to him. Steeling himself, he said slowly, "Why don't you call me by name?"

The reaction was instant. Caled spun around, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense. Yet it was not in anger or to fight. She looked at him skeptically. "Does that really bother you?" she snapped.

"Yes, it does!" Legolas exclaimed. "It bothers me a great deal, Caled." Though he spoke heatedly, he held himself in check. They had finally breached the subject and he would not ruin it by frightening her. "All you ever say is 'elf.' That's all you have ever called me! Why do you insist on doing this? Haven't I earned your trust? Am I not a friend? Do I not mean more to you? Or is that all you ever see when you look at me? Do you only see what I was born as? Do you not see me as anything else? Do you not see me as 'Legolas'? _As the one who loves you!_"

The air rang with the echo of his words. Caled stared at him, eyes wide. Her face was strangely blank.

Legolas tried to catch his breath, alarmed at his words yet refusing to take them back. For too long he had kept his feelings bottled up and damned if he kept it up. He knew this would change everything. They could no longer go back to the way things were, and a whole hatful of cliques more. Either way, he waited for her response.

Time ticked by and Caled did not move. The sounds of the festival close by droned on, heedless of the coming dawn. The horizon began to soften to blue, the stars dimming.

"And what would you do with that love?"

The abruptness of Caled's words made Legolas jerk. "What do you mean?"

"What is it to you when you love someone?" Caled asked. "What is normal for those in love to do?"

Legolas brow furrowed in confusion.

"Marriage?" Caled posed. "Living together until their deaths? Or other such events," she added, waving her hand in a motion to him, indicating his kind's longevity. "Consummating their...pledge?

The last was whispered and her eyes dropped from his.

Legolas felt a throb in his heart. Did she truly believe those lies that had been screamed at her? Did she still feel that she was ugly? That she was not worth his affection?

He took a step towards her. When she retreated, his heart ached again. Was that truly the reason for her hesitance? Was that what kept her from him?

Or was there more?

Somehow that did not seem right. There was something that made him suspect another reason.

"It won't work."

Caled raised her head. Tears streaked her cheeks. Her hands were once again pressed against her stomach. "I can't give you that," she said again, voice cracking.

"Caled, I don't care about what happened to you," Legolas said lowly. "None of it was your fault. You had nothing to do with any of it. Please, Caled, listen to me," he implored when she shook her head. "I don't think any less of you. You amaze me every day just by being here." He paused, then, "You're beautiful."

A hoarse laugh barked from Caled, startling Legolas. "'Beautiful'?" she repeated, her voice strangled. She raised her left arm, showing the two silver bracelets resting there. "All you see is the image this thing projects! You don't know---don't know what he did! You---"

"Then tell me," Legolas broke in, forcing his words to be steady. "If you think anything that crazed wizard or those cursed Orcs did could make my feelings for you any lesser, then tell me."

As she stood there, bewildered at his words, Legolas' gut twisted. She had a disguise bracelet? Since when had she had that? How much of her image did it change?

Caled gave a soft snort of a laugh. She reached up and undid the clasp of the cloak she wore. When it was off she threw it to the ground.

Legolas' mind raced. What was she doing?

Her arms twisted behind her, swiftly untying the cords of the dress' bodice. As she did this, her eyes remained fixed on the cloak at her feet. When the last of the knots was loosened she pulled the garment down. Giving only a second's hesitance, she ripped at the bracelet on her arm. Both fell to the ground along with the dress, pooling around her legs.

Her body, already shadowed in the poor light, became blurred for several seconds from the neck down. Then it came back into focus. It took Legolas a moment before he realized what it was he was seeing.

Her arms moved to cover herself modestly yet they did not hide the scars that marked her flesh. His eyes stared at each score and depression, a numbed shock creeping through him. His mouth opened but he was speechless. Then he saw it. Once his eyes adjusted it stuck out like a beckon.

Extending from between her breasts down to past where her lower hand shielded her was a shining white scar.

The White Hand of Saruman.

And running down the middle of the Hand was a wide, puckered line.

"He took more than dignity," came Caled's broken voice.

Legolas tore his eyes away from the gruesome mark. She was shaking and pale. She looked to be on the verge of collapsing.

"It won't work." She raised her head, her eyes swimming with remembered pain. She stopped, drawing a deep breath. Then came the whisper, "We could never be a _family_."

The emphasis on the last word drove it home. "You can't conceive," Legolas blurted.

She wince at the word but nodded. A sob stifled her briefly. She cleared her throat then hiccupped, "You're a Prince. You need someone who can give you a child. Someone who can please you properly. Someone who's body doesn't look like old leather. Someone who hasn't been _used_---"

Caled stopped, shocked. Legolas had crossed the distance between them and enveloped her trembling frame in his arms. She was even more surprised to feel a tremor running through him. The tenderness she felt in the embrace brought a new wave of tears to her eyes. She bit her lip against it, cutting into the skin accidentally.

Legolas buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. She smelled of plants and soot, a scent he would forever remember. He tightened his hold on her, feeling her tense. He would not let her go. Not until he had his say.

"My title be damned," he swore, voice raw with emotion. "I don't care about an heir. If I had to choose my home or you, I'd pick you a thousand times over."

Caled's shoulder hunched slightly, a choked noise coming from her throat.

He pulled back slightly, wanting to see her. When she did not look up, he hooked a finger under her chin. Seeing the baffled expression on her face caused another pang in his chest. Did she really not believe him?

Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he trailed his hand down her body. His fingers grazed the shape of the scar dominating her torso. His eyes held hers, marveling at the way they still flashed in her distressed state. He rested his palm on her belly, covering both scars.

"I said it before," he murmured. "You're beautiful, _coramin_. Why would I want anyone other than you? Why would I want a woman who wishes to do nothing more than manage a household? Why when I can love a woman who threatens to shove a fireball down my shirt as often as she looks at me?"

Legolas felt the muscles of her stomach jerk with a suppressed laugh. Gaining confidence by the way she was slowly relaxing, he moved his hand to trace the scar that lead down her thigh. His other hand cupped the back of her head, tilting it up to his slightly. "I said I didn't care about what happened," he repeated, his voice dropping. "I mean it. You're not 'used.' You're as pure as the moonlight in Lorien."

An odd thing happened then. From the depths of her crimson eyes came a flash of gold.

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "And as feisty as a Balrog."

Caled had hardly let out a quiet laugh before Legolas lowered his head. He paused just before reaching his intended goal, waiting for her permission.

Again there was a flash of gold from her eyes. Then her hands reached up to cup his face. Raising up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his in a hesitant kiss.

Legolas had to hold back a moan. After wanting to kiss her for so long, doing so felt like a dream. No. Dreams did not make him wish he could die simply to preserve that moment.

They pulled back briefly to catch their breath. Caled bit her lip again, accidentally ripping into the skin again. Instinctively Legolas leaned in, drawing her lip between his and gently sucking the small wound. Caled gasped at the sudden sensation. Her hands speared into his hair, gripping it.

An strange heat rushed over the two of them. A green flame was circling around them, spiraling from the ground to circle around their heads. Caled broke away when she saw it, face aflame with shame at losing control. The flame dispersed harmlessly.

Legolas chuckled, drawing her back to him. "No harm done," he assured her when she quickly looked him over for any burns.

She groaned, shaking her head. "This will take getting used to," she muttered, shivering as the wind blew.

Legolas mentally scolded himself. He bent down and retrieved her dress and cloak. "Get back in your clothes, woman," he said, teasingly. "You'll catch cold." Even as she rolled her eyes, Legolas saw the goose bumps that dotted her skin from the cold.

The sun was rising, the sky now bleeding from blue to red on the horizon. When Caled had adjusted the last of her clothes, Legolas reached for her again. This time she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. They enjoyed simply holding one another, hearing only the sounds of the stirring wild life. The festival must had wound down at some point.

Reluctantly, Legolas said, "Come. Mornie will be wondering where we are."

Caled made an agreeing noise, stepping away. As Legolas turned in direction of the town, Caled latched onto his hand. When he looked down at her in question, she gave a small smile. "Know what?" she whispered.

"What, _coramin_?"

She now grinned at the word. Skipping onto her tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"I think I love you, Legolas."

His eyes widened, whether at the confession or from hearing his name from her lips was anyone's guess. Then a grin split his face. He swooped down on her, lifting her into the air and spinning around.

The quiet dawn was shattered by their ringing laughter.

----------

A. N.-- Mwahaha! SAP SAP SAP! Happy yet?

Song is _Over my Head (Cable Car)_ by The Fray. While writing the dance scene this song popped up on my playlist and I thought it was perfect. Forgive the modern mentions, i.e., 'in a cable car.' I highly recommend listening to it, awesome song!

Also: it seems my muse is kicking into gear but you never know if real life will go "Uh-uh, I'm drop- kicking yo' ass!" However, if I do happen to have to go on hiatus, I will let you guys know. But here's hoping that doesn't happen (knocks on wood).

---Kaze no Tenshi


	38. Chpt XXXII: Twists and Turns

Chapter Thirty Two – Twists and Turns

-

Laughter all around him. Jeering voices, harsh ridicule pounded in his already sore head.

"_Poor little Elf. Thought he could change it, didn't he?"_

Another blow, his vision swam from the impact of the ground. He ached all over. Still the voices snarled at him. The hands still swung him around, leading him somewhere.

"_Such a sad sight. I thought you were stronger than this._"

"_And just after she managed to trust you._"

A cold jab like ice shot through his heart at those words. They couldn't mean...

They pulled him up short inside of a darkened room. Blood soaked the floor. Just within his field of vision he saw a hand laying limply on the ground.

A hand he knew too well.

"_She thought you would protect her._"

-

"NO!"

With a sharp jerk, Legolas sat up. He looked around, disoriented. Around him there were people laying on the ground wrapped in blankets, tents dotted the area, animals snorted in their sleep, and wagons rested with their contents tightly secured, all oddly highlighted by dying campfires.

Then he remembered: they were traveling with a caravan to Tharbad.

Relief did not come, though. The space that had been occupied beside him was now vacant. Mornie was still asleep, curled up in his place in his human guise on the other side of the empty space.

Legolas scanned the ground. When he saw a lone set of prints leading away, he quickly got to his feet to follow. They lead him to a place just outside of the light of the campfires. A figure was visible against the moonlight, sitting in the dry grass.

Legolas' breath left him in a rush. Red eyes turned at the noise, a flash signaling the release of her whip.

Caled stopped, squinting to get a better look. "What's the matter?" she asked, seeing it was him.

"Nothing," Legolas lied, quickening his pace. He did not like lying but right now he just needed to know she was all right. He ignored her frown and crouched down behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest. He rested his forehead on the top of her head, breathing deeply.

Caled raised a hand to his cheek and nearly jumped to her feet. "You're sweating!" she exclaimed when he held her where she was. "What happened? Tell me!" she demanded, twisting her upper body around to look at him.

Oddly enough, her temper was more soothing to his nerves than simply touching her. Her raised voice and narrowed eyes told him that she was fine, that nothing had happened to her.

"I woke up and you weren't there," Legolas said, trying to decide how much to tell her. "It---it worried me."

A brow shot up and Caled opened her mouth, no doubt to go into a tirade about how she could take care of herself for a few hours. But she stopped, her face softening at the look in his eyes.

She reached up to touch his cheek again. Where their skin met a minor electrical sensation occurred. Her eyes slid out of focus slightly. Legolas waited, knowing not to interrupt less she grow even more irritated.

This was the second time Caled had directly used her empath ability on him. The first had been shortly after she confessed her feelings to him. She had asked him if she could 'read' him openly. Ever since the curse blocking her ability had been removed she had refused to use any of them. As she said, it could be dangerous if she had not practiced it beforehand. The Dream Hastening skill she had yet to attempt, though Mornie often said he could assist her with that.

Legolas did not have a problem with it. If anything, he wanted to show her that he held nothing back from her.

Caled straightened, eyes slightly widening as they cleared. Her hand circled around to the back of his head, the other doing the same. She leaned forward, touching her forehead to his and staring straight into his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Legolas," she said softly. "I haven't left you and I'm not planning on it." She shifted to her knees, circling him in her arms and holding his head to her shoulder. "I'm okay," she whispered, closing her eyes and running a hand through his hair.

Legolas closed his eyes as well, focusing on her. Her touch, her scent, her voice. It drove away the dream, putting his fear to rest for the moment.

But it did not eliminate the fear. For far too long he had been seeing images and visions of Caled beaten or dead. Never had they been in a dream nor as vivid. He shuddered, drawing her closer to him.

"I'm okay," she repeated, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Legolas mutely nodded. Then a flash of heat seared across his back. He yelped, pulling back in surprise. Caled was grinning evilly at him. "What? You sounded like you needed to wake up some more," she said in a mock innocent tone, arching a flame between her hands.

Feeling that nothing was burned, not even the fabric, Legolas set an annoyed glare on his face. "Has anyone ever told you that you can really kill the moment?" he drawled.

Caled blinked innocently. "Oh? That was a moment, was it?" She then pulled a face, sticking her tongue out.

Before she could move, Legolas' hands darted out and caught her, knocking her to the ground. He grinned as she struggled beneath him, her snarl looking more endearing than threatening. "Keep sticking that tongue out," he warned, "and it will be bitten off."

Caled's eyes flash gold for a second at his words. "I'd like to see you try it," she taunted, chin lifting defiantly.

Far from being one to back down from a challenge, Legolas cocked his head to one side, putting his intent into a smoldering gaze. She stilled, eyes once again flashing gold in the pale light. He lowered his head, crushing his lips to hers.

Her breath caught, the softest of moans escaping her throat. His ears caught it and he slanted his mouth over hers, coaxing her to let him gain entry.

For just a moment she pulled back, startled by his ardor. Legolas cursed himself and broke away, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck.

"Sorry," he murmured against her throat, breathing deeply to calm himself. "I'm sorry."

There was a pause before Caled's hands slipped around his neck, fingers sliding past his collar to lightly graze his skin. "It---it's okay," she stuttered.

Legolas lifted to look at her. He shook his head when she started to say more. "No, it's not," he said simply. The surprise that crossed her face made him smile. He pressed a light kiss to her brow. "It'll be by your pace, _coramin_. Your pace, not mine."

She blushed. Somehow the notion that she still blushed around him made her all the more fascinating. He leaned down, aching to taste her once more.

"If you keep that up, you'll have an audience and a brush fire on your hands."

The two jumped apart. Mornie rolled his eyes as Caled swore, seeing the batch of grass that had caught fire. The shape shifter looked up to the sky as if for guidance.

Caled hastily canceled the flame, shooting a dark glare at Mornie. "Little voyeur," she muttered, standing.

Mornie shrugged. "I'm not the one sucking face in an open field, in plain sight of my traveling group."

She spluttered at his blunt words, her face looking as if it could hold no more blood. Legolas bit back a laugh, amused at her bashfulness.

They made their way back to the caravan, which was indeed waking up. Caled lightly touched Legolas' arm, motioning to a group of women waving at them. "Be back in a second," she said before shifting her direction to the women.

Legolas watched her go, the now familiar tug of longing pulling at him. He withheld a sigh, repacking the blankets and bed rolls.

It had only been six days since the Winter Moon festival. The time between seemed both long and short. They were half a day's walk from Tharbad and would soon resume the journey on their own. He was beginning to look at that time uneasily.

Legolas was beginning to doubt his self-control.

It was easy to handle now. There were so many people traveling with them that a distraction usually presented itself before he needed one. They did not spend every minute together, often separating to assist with something or to talk to one of the caravan.

The moments they did have to themselves could scarcely be defined as physical. They simply enjoyed one another's presence, whether in silence or in bickering. Though their bickering was far different than what it had once been. Namely that if one was losing the argument they ended it by kissing the other into silence.

Legolas chuckled to himself. Last time it had been Caled and the display had received several whistles. She there after refused to argue with him in front of anyone other than Mornie.

And that was more or less the extent of it. Kissing was as far as they had gone. He was in no way displeased by it. Caled for all her inexperience never failed to send his head swimming, even when _he_ initiated the contact. They embraced, certainly, and every night since they drifted to sleep in one another arms. Yet nothing more than that.

He wanted her.

Every day was another test of his control. Everything Caled did or said would cause his heart to pound. Whenever she smiled that slow smile she only gave him his chest would tighten with need. Each night as they lay beside each other, he had to clasp his hands together to keep them from wandering.

Legolas would never push her. He had sworn, even before that first kiss, that anything and everything would be by her pace. He desired her body, he had known that for a long time. But he also wanted her heart, her mind, her soul; all of her. Forcing her before she was ready would shatter her entirely.

He never wanted to see her cry because of him. Not again.

A sharp rap to his back jolted him out of his thoughts.

Mornie stood behind him, a concern look on his face. "Everything all right?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Legolas said, shouldering his pack.

Mornie cocked an eyebrow, tapping his temple.

"Oh. Right." Of course. He was speaking to the other empath of the party after all.

Gold eyes glanced around before pointedly looking at a place above Legolas' head. "Look, I'm sorry about interrupting you two. I really am. But people were waking up and with the grass this dry that fire would have spread quicker than she could have reacted." He said all this quickly, eyes never meeting Legolas'. For all his brusque words earlier, apparently Mornie had some regret for interrupting them.

"Don't worry about it," Legolas replied, shrugging it away. His gaze strayed to where Caled stood, avidly discussing something with the group of women. For a moment she looked his way, flashing him a smile that both quelled and tormented his struggling desires.

Then a thought occurred to him. "Mornie?"

Mornie made a noise to show he was listening. He was wrestling with shoving a rolled blanket into his pack.

"Do you know why Caled's eyes change color?" Legolas asked slowly. He was unsure if he should voice this question. It could have been nothing but there was still much about her he did not know.

Mornie paused, eyes squinting. Legolas could almost see him reviewing images he had seen over the past few days. "You're talking about when they are gold?" he queried. At the affirmative, he lingered in thought a moment more. He then resumed the fight with the blanket and the pack. "Let me pose this question: looking back through the memories of her youth you glimpsed---taken, I've never seen them visually---was there ever a time when a similar thing happened?"

"Not to her, no."

When one mighty push, Mornie finally secured the blanket inside the pack. "But did you see it happen to others of her _companions_?" he asked, stressing the last word to mean 'Shadow Elf.'

Legolas' brow creased as he thought hard. "Yes...I think so."

Mornie mulled this over. Then, "Then consider this: what is she doing whenever her eyes change? Is there a constant situation?" When the Elf opened his mouth yet stopped, struck dumb by the thought, Mornie smirked. "I take it the answer coincides with the earlier entanglement I interrupted?"

"Yes," Legolas managed to say.

"Then that is probably your answer. And for the other question," Mornie cut in, "yes, I know what emotion runs through her head at the time. But I do not feel inclined to disclose what it is."

When the blanket unexpectedly sprang from his pack, sending Mornie into a cursing fit, Legolas felt it was not rude enough to laugh out loud.

---

Thankfully the caravan did not seem intent on keeping the three of them behind. Once they reached Tharbad, they lingered only because Legolas agreed to help unload some wagons. Caled and Mornie took the time to restock their supplies.

At the fruits stand, as the vendor packed the various dried goods they purchased into tight packages, he raised a brow in question. "Quite a lot to buy in one go, isn't it?"

Caled shrugged, shifting the contents on her pack to make room. "There's another traveling with us."

"And we do not know of the conditions we will meet on the road," Mornie added.

The vendor frowned. "What road do you travel?"

Caled resisted the reflexive urge to glance at Mornie. They had been advised to keep their path as secretive as possible. There was no telling if one was a Reaper spy or if one was near. "We're...visiting kin near Lond Daer," she said, naming the town that sat near the mouth of the Gwathlo river.

The man relaxed. "Don't go scaring me like that, young miss," he said with a breath. "By the size of your order I was thinking you were heading further south. But if there's another companion of yours it would explain---"

"What's wrong further south?" Mornie interrupted. "Why would that scare you?"

The vendor reddened, shifting uneasily. "Now, you've got to hear me out," he said defensively, "I'm not one to take to rumors, mind you. It's just that the things they're saying are all too similar to be completely tall tales, eh?"

"What things?" Mornie pressed before Caled could.

The man raised a brow again. "You must be from the north if you haven't heard," he said in amazement. "They're saying there's a plague on the land, see? Or some kinda magic at work. People disappearing for a day or so---women, children, men, makes no difference who---then they pop back as if nothing had happened. Then a bit later the lucky ones vanish again. The others..."

Here he shuddered. "They say some go mad, shrieking and hollering like a demon's after them. Others suffocate when nothing's strangling them! Or stranger still, their whole body will turn blue before they die. Then there are those who simply drop dead, straight away. They say it's all down in the Gondor area, even as far south as Pelargir."

He paused, smiling as he handed them their purchases. "But if you're heading to Lond Daer, there's nothing I'd be worried about. A good day to you!"

---

Caled and Mornie lost track of time and were late meeting back with Legolas at the city's gates. After the talk with the fruit vendor, the two had drifted through the town, asking for all the latest rumors of the south. All they heard were repetitions of his words with slight variations. All agreed on one thing: there was trouble in the south.

They shared their findings with Legolas, dividing up the new supplies among them. When they were done retelling, Legolas said, "A few men told me the same stories, one swearing he witness a person go mad before dying in front of him."

Caled bit her lip. "Do you think---It couldn't be connected to the Reapers. Could it?"

"There's always the possibility," he said, shaking his head. "Remember what Lord Elrond said of the young man? He was taken for being mad yet there was truth in his ramblings."

"And it could be nothing," Mornie remarked. "I'm just saying there's an equal chance," he hastily assured as Caled threw him a suspicious glare.

Legolas glanced around them. "We're far enough away, Mornie," he commented. "You can go back to your other form."

"Gladly," Mornie said, taking off his pack and handing it to Legolas. His pack was the smallest, given that his normal form was not suited to carry much. He then stood a ways apart. The other two waited, expecting to see the mist gather around him before his familiar cat like form bounded into Caled's arm.

Nothing happened.

For a moment, Mornie's eyes widened. Then he closed his eyes, face screwed in a grimace of concentration. Yet he stayed the same. He opened his eyes, staring at his human hands.

"Mornie?" Caled said delicately.

Mornie's pale face grew even paler, sending his black hair into greater contrast. He briefly looked up at them, as if to confirm by the perspective that his height had not changed. Then he pressed his knuckles to his temples, massaging them as he squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a soft growl of frustration. His breath became quick, panicky.

"What's wrong?" Caled nearly shouted, reaching out to grip his arm.

For the first time since he had met him, Legolas saw horror in Mornie's eyes.

"I...I can't change."

----------

A. N.--- Once again, I may have gotten a bit of geography wrong. I'm referencing from the maps in the books. Actually, if the movies are the only knowledge you have, it's fine. Regardless, just go with the flow.

---Kaze no Tenshi


	39. Chpt XXXIII: Progression and Detours

Chapter Thirty Three – Progression and Detours

It was not often that Gandalf felt old. Events never before caused him to reflect on his many, many years, wondering what had happened to the world.

Recently, though, it was all he could ponder.

Two weeks had passed since Legolas, Caled, and that Mornie had left for the Harnen. In the span of those two weeks, reports had coming flooding into Rivendell about the south. Strange occurrences. Bizarre deaths. Various people vanishing.

And he had sent them into the heart of it.

The Wizard stared into the fire, absently turning his unlit pipe around in his hands. Not for the first time, he doubted his actions leading up to their departure. There was so much more he could have done. So much he could have said. Perhaps even suggested that he join them.

The errant voice whispered against it, as it always did when he thought about this. No, there was no going back on it, or even going to them. He did all he could. What help he could give them he already gave, in one form or another.

In his mind's eye, Gandalf recalled the small, nondescript package he had left Legolas, back when the Elf first became eager to travel once again.

Hopefully he would know when to use it. There was only one small chance it would work.

Gandalf sighed, staring at the flames in the hearth. Pained golden eyes flashed in his memory.

_The Unsealing Words._

The Wizard closed his eyes, head bowing to his chest. He could only pray she was strong enough for what was to come.

---

"How old is he?"

Caled looked up at Legolas, caught off guard at the question.

They had chosen to spend the night in Tharbad. Luckily the main inn of the town had a room available that they pounced on, not even entertaining the thought of haggling for a lower price. Given the current situation, they did not want to risk being outside during the night.

Mornie was still unable to change. He had attempted it for several hours, forcing himself until he had finally collapsed from exhaustion. Outwardly he seemed healthy, a slight fever but that may have been from panic. And due to both his panic and strenuous endeavors, Legolas knew it was not some twisted prank.

Something was indeed wrong with him.

Caled was worried. She had not nagged at him for trying to force himself to shift yet had still tried to get him to rest. She point blank refused to leave Mornie's side. Even now she sat on the bed with his head in her lap, watching over him as he slept.

Legolas had not spoken since Mornie had collapsed, deep in his own musings. For a while now he had been staring at Mornie. The shape shifter's face, lax in sleep, suddenly seemed far younger than before. In this form, he looked to be just short of adulthood. Yet because this was a chosen form, it was not the ideal way to gauge his age.

"I'm not sure," Caled answered, looking back down at the sleeping being. "He's never told me."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, giving what comfort he had to her. She leaned back against him. "What if he gets worse?" she whispered, trembling slightly at the thought. "What if it's because of that injury? When the Reaper threw him?"

Legolas winced, remembering the '_snap_' that had come from Mornie in that fight. He had never before considered the fact that the injury may have long term effects. It would certainly explain the loss of his shifting ability. Perhaps it was also why Mornie had been sleeping a lot more lately.

"We'll do what we can," Legolas assured her.

Caled nodded. Still, it was a while before she stopped trembling.

---

They departed from Tharbad the following day. Mornie stayed the same. The three did not discuss the matter, yet silently took precautions against problems that could arise. Until then Mornie had been a trump card for an unexpected fight. His larger forms were highly effective in dispersing an attacking group or by ripping through them. Now a large scale skirmish could be a problem.

They continued down the North-South Road, the ancient markers still serving a purpose and keeping them on track. While they did not linger in many villages and towns, they did pause to gather any rumors or tales.

It was the same wherever they went: there was something going on in the south. The death toll and the number of missing people was growing weekly. A handful of people they met were refugees, fleeing whatever was causing the calamity and coming to the north.

Winter came in full force, the usual ferocity mellowing as they continued southwards. The snowfall was light and melted soon after gathering on the ground. Nonetheless, they took to staying at inns during the night to escape the cold.

Soon they came to the edge of Rohan territory. Knowing that there were stretches of land ahead with no one around for leagues, they decided to wait out the worst of the winter in town.

Caled was hired at the inn for the duration of their stay, the job mostly consisting of changing sheets and cleaning out rooms. Legolas found odd jobs around the town, Mornie occasionally helping.

None of them knew about the fourth, uninvited member of their party.

---

Caled grimaced, adjusting the handkerchief around her mouth before returning to beating the rug. There was more dust on this piece of carpet than she had expected. She grumbled under her breath, knowing it would take longer then she had first thought.

The yard was littered with hanging rugs and thick blankets, other hired hands at work beating them. Several children darted to and from each station, switching the clean items for dirty ones.

"Miss Caled-Veleg!"

Caled stopped, looking down. A young girl stood beside her, arms laden with fresh linens. The girl, Kaylen, was smiling expectantly. "Yes?" Caled said, pulling the kerchief away to talk.

"You're going to the market later, right?" the girl asked.

"Right, Cookie needs a few things," she answered, using the nickname for the cook.

"Can I go with you? Please?" Kaylen said, her bright blue eyes pleading.

Caled forced herself not to smile, trying to look as though this was a serious matter. "Only if your mother says it is fine. Okay?"

Kaylen grinned, nodding. "Yes, Miss! I'll go ask her right now!" She rushed towards her mother, nearly knocking several people over in her haste.

Caled shook her head, amused at the girl's excitement. She returned to beating the rug, occasionally glancing up to watch Kaylen's animated talk with her mother. The older woman looked unsure at the end of her daughter's ramble, saying something that made the girl's shoulders slump. Sulkily, she returned to her chores. Caled silently sighed as Kaylen's mother moved away from her station, making a bee line for her.

Knowing it would be rude to continue beating the rug, Caled stowed the stick away in her apron. As the woman neared, she pulled the kerchief down. Honestly, she was never going to finish at this rate.

"Kaylen wants to accompany you to the market," the woman said slowly, studying Caled's face intently. "She asked you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Caled replied. She did not question the woman's hesitance.

She and Kaylen were refugees from southern Gondor, her husband having vanished not too long ago. She was very cautious when it came to Kaylen. The girl's attachment to Caled was a stressful thing for the woman. She had lost her husband and feared losing her daughter as well. Still, even she could not deny the fact that spending time with Caled had done wonders for the girl. She was no longer withdrawn and skittish as she had been when they first came to town.

Kaylen's mother was silent. Then, "As...as long as you won't be long---You know, if it will be a short trip. Then...then she can go with you."

Caled nodded. "I'll watch over her," she promised.

The woman smiled a bit yet it faded quickly. She nodded, then left.

Caled sighed again, determined to finish the rug if it was the last thing she ever did.

---

Grunting under the weight, Legolas hefted the large sacks onto his shoulder. Only a few more and he would be done.

The donkey harnessed to the wagon looked over at him, snorting. It shifted, leaning forward, the wagon creaking in its wake.

"You better not run," Legolas grumbled. The donkey had already tried to bolt three times today. He was annoyed enough that the other men who were supposed to loading the wagon with him never showed up. As if sensing a veiled threat, the donkey refrained from moving ay further.

He tossed the sacks into the back of the wagon, mentally tallying the total. Two more trips and he would be done.

As he turned to pick up another set, a shudder ran through him. He stopped, staying as still as possible. What was that?

A tingle ran down his spine. He could hear something. Soft, hissing whispers. They were far too faint to decipher the words. Where was it coming from?

Then a violent spasm rent through his left arm. He swore, his other hand gripping the trembling appendage tightly. The donkey brayed, startled, yet thankfully did not run. A tense moment later, his arm stilled and the whispers stopped.

Legolas gingerly flexed the limb, opening and closing his fist. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Cautiously, he returned to the work. He went slower, just in case whatever had happened occurred again. Yet nothing did.

Wagon loaded, he exited the stables to let the foreman know he was done. He collected his pay and made his way back into town. He used the time to collect his thoughts.

The situation with Mornie was still the same. He remained 'human' and it appeared that he would for a long time. A few days ago, Caled had insisted he attempt a Dream Hasten with her. Surprisingly, it had worked. The fact that he still retained that ability had taken the edge off his silent panic Legolas and Caled had noticed.

Legolas glanced up at the sky, frowning at the grey clouds gathering. While snowfall in this area was lighter, the wet mess it left behind was more annoying than a blizzard. Hopefully it would taper off in a few weeks. Then they could start again.

The Wood-Elf looked back down at his hand, moving his fingers. He had had no problems with his arm before. A slight twitch, maybe. Never a spasm like that.

Could it be---

"Mr. Greenleaf!"

Legolas' breath escaped him as someone plowed into him in a crushing hug. He caught himself before he fell over and leaned back to look at his attacker. A grinning pair of blue eyes under a mop of brown hair looked back.

"Nice to see you too, Kaylen," Legolas said, ruffling the girl's hair.

A familiar laugh amid the chaos of the market made him glance up. Caled stood just ahead, a basket half filled with various items hanging from her arm. "Finished with the grunt work already?"

"Yes, finally," Legolas smiled, allowing Kaylen to pull him along. He reached out and caught Caled's arm, pulling her to him. He saw her mouth curve in a smirk before he slanted his lips over hers.

Caled pulled back a moment later, wrinkling her nose. "You stink," she stated, fanning him back with her free hand.

Legolas grinned. Before she could step away, he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her against him. She gave a shriek that barely covered her laughter as he nuzzled her neck. "Now you stink, too!" he declared, releasing her.

"Barbarian!" she gasped, smacking his chest.

"Only with you," he said in an undertone, smirking.

"Are you both _trying_ to make me gag?" Kaylen said indignantly.

Caled managed to hold back her laughter at the girl's pout. "Sorry, Kaylen," she said. "Come on. What else do we need?"

"Butter," the girl supplied. Disgust forgotten, she linked hands with Caled. She turned to Legolas, asking, "Are you coming with us? We're almost done shopping."

"As long as I'm not attacked, I will," he said. He merely smiled at Caled's snort.

"I'll make sure you won't be," Kaylen giggled, holding out her other hand.

Legolas took it, meeting Caled's eyes over the girl. "Stinky," he heard her mutter.

"Hothead," he shot back.

Caled cocked a brow. She raised her other hand, a small flame sparking in her palm. "I take it you don't mind having your pants on fire?" she whispered.

"Look, Kaylen! Aren't those pretty?" Legolas said loudly, directing the girl's attention to a stand selling scarves.

---

Later that night, after dinner, Legolas gave his excuses and swore to Caled that he would take a bath. The inn had a large bathing area and due to the late hour it was deserted. Still, Legolas checked to make sure he was alone and that the door was securely locked. Then, mentally steeling himself, he removed his shirts.

When he had disentangled himself from the clothes, he looked into the full length mirror that stood near the entrance. A cold chill came over him.

The scar on his shoulder had grown.

It was thicker and now curved over his shoulder to his neck, stopping just before the conjunction between neck and shoulder. It was no longer an ash grey but a darker grey. The branching color in the surrounding skin had expanded, covering a greater area than before. In the middle of the main line of it he noticed an indentation.

Legolas raised a hand and touched the mark. He could still feel in the areas that had changed. He raised his arm over his head then stretched it behind him. No loss of mobility.

Yet that did not calm him. It had not been like this yesterday or even that morning. He had done nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that could warrant such a drastic change in the scar.

He snorted. 'Scar'? This could not be as simple a thing as a scar! Scars healed, faded, maybe darkened, but never _grew_. Caled's knife had not caused this, Lord Elrond and Gandalf both swore to that. Besides, both when it appeared and now had happened overnight---or in seconds as it were.

But what could have caused this? Nothing other than that knife had ever pierced that area. Nothing---

Legolas stopped. In his mind, he saw Denya, laying on bed and talking to Aurora amid Darin's loud protests. _'Better use the strong stuff. Don't want to get a nasty infection from the Reaper.'_

If he remembered correctly, Darin had said a purple colored Reaper had cut him then.

A Reaper had cut Legolas there. A _purple_ Reaper.

It had been so long ago he had almost forgotten it. Was this the effect? Was this an 'infection' from a Reaper? If so, why had none of his other Reaper wounds progressed to look like this?

He recalled that Denya had specified a type of ointment to place on the wound. He remembered what it looked like. Surely some of it was in with the bags Aurora had given them.

Assured that locating the treatment was within his grasp, Legolas finished undressing to bathe.

Still, a small part of him wondered: the wound itself had sealed over a year ago. Would any treatment work?

---

Caled was curled up in a chair by the fire, a book laid open in her lap. She looked up at his entry of their room. "Mornie's still downstairs," she said to his questioning look around the room. She giggled, "Kaylen convinced him to stay a while."

Legolas shook his head, amused. "Isn't he too old for her?" he asked rhetorically. He forced himself to look nonchalant as he rummaged through his pack for the sack Aurora had given him.

"Not in her eyes. She's about fourteen, I believe." Legolas could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "She doesn't care if he's older. It's obvious that she's smitten."

He made an agreeing noise. He located the sack and swiftly opened it. A rolled parchment sat atop the myriad things inside. He shifted so Caled could not see what he was doing and unrolled the parchment. He scanned the list of instructions, quickly spotting a line reading 'in case of a Reaper cut.' Memorizing the label, he hunted through the sack until he found the vial with the same name.

Legolas tucked it into his waistband, making sure his shirt covered it. "I'll be back," he called as he made his way to the door. "Need to check on something."

Caled frowned behind her book yet said, "No problem." When the door closed, she sighed, leaning back in the chair.

Something was bothering Legolas. All night he been preoccupied, often asking questions he had already asked or forgetting what discussion he was in. Then there was earlier in the afternoon, right before Kaylen had launched herself at him.

Caled had seen the troubled look on his face. She had also seen him flex his fist and the way he stared at it. He had done that as well periodically all night.

She frowned. He was not lying to her about anything, she knew that as a fact. Her empath ability was able to discern that for her. There was also the inexplicable feeling that she had. She could not explain it, only know that it was a fact.

So what was it?

"Caled?"

Caled jumped, her book thudding to the ground. Legolas had returned. He was kneeling by their bags, looking over at her in concern.

"What?" she blurted, rather stupidly in her opinion.

"I asked if you were ready for bed. Are you feeling well?" He stood and came to her side. He raised a hand to feel her forehead.

"I'm fine," Caled said, rolling her eyes. "Just dozed off."

Though annoyed, she could not help but smile at his concern. It was a small thing yet it warmed her to see him fretting occasionally. Though she knew, _had_ know for a long time in fact, that he cared about her well being, seeing it displayed never ceased to surprise her.

She was not used to being loved by someone who so openly showed it. Even among her own family affection had been known yet rarely shown. She had never doubted her parents' love nor her brother's. It was simply something she had faith in.

Her thoughts were broken as Legolas knelt in front of her, the hand on her forehead drifting to stroke her cheek. His other hand came up to rest lightly on her bent knee. His pale blue eyes gazed into hers. That gaze spoke volumes of the ardent emotions he held.

A shiver ran down Caled's spine. Her belly twisted in a way that was not wholly unpleasant. Every time they made contact she could sense Legolas keeping himself in check. At times she could swear she felt it, as if his restraint was a tangible thing. And every time he did, her breath would hitch, knowing that those intense emotions were because of her.

The mere thought of touching him or being touched by him was enough to make her dizzy. She longed to give in the desire. To see his eyes blaze in a different light. To feel the restraint melt from him while in his arms.

Then came the flash of dull pain across her eyes. She perceived the rushing tingle around her palms heralding that infuriating flame that would encircle them. She immediately quelled the rampant feelings within her. Both the pleasant and not so pleasant ones.

"You are sure?"

Caled jerked slightly. She smiled, leaning into the hand caressing her cheek. "I am fine," she murmured. "Just tired." She uncoiled her legs from under her and reached for him. His arms enveloped her, settling comfortably around her waist. She pressed a soft kiss to his slightly creased brow. Then another, longer one to his lips.

Legolas sighed against her. All the tension flowed out of him with that breath. They broke away slowly, prolonging the contact. Caled gave a sigh as well, laying her head on his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Feeling his hand gently stroking her back, she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation.

Caled wished to give more to him. She wanted to. Yet every time she felt that tug, the sting across her eyes brought back horrid memories, making her hesitate. It was frustrating beyond measure. Sometimes she wanted to scream and pull at her hair.

Yet Legolas never pushed her. In her eyes, he had every right to. But he did not. By her pace, he had said. Just remembering those words her eyes would sting with tears.

He deserved more.

A sudden sense of vertigo gripped Caled, causing her to gasp. Legolas had stood, pulling her up with him. He grinned at her glare, scooping her up in his arms. "If you're going to doze off, at least do it in the bed," he chided.

Caled gave an offended huff, giving a light slap to his arm. "You _are_ a barbarian."

"Only with you," he said, repeating their earlier fight.

Her cheeks reddened. She spluttered before giving into the laugh bubbling in her. The laugh turned into another gasp when he dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed. She saw his grinning face right before he threw the thick blanket over her. She ripped the blanket off, glaring at him as he went around the room.

He extinguished the lamps and candles, leaving the fire burning to give heat and light. He picked the book up of the floor, setting it on the seat of the chair. When he turned back to the bed, Caled had settled in already, firmly on her side facing the wall away from him.

Yet when he slipped in between the sheets, she rolled over, lifting her head long enough to give another slow kiss. His arm pulled her against him, and both drifted to sleep.

Outside, the shadows lengthened.

---

-

Something was wrong. Something was different. No. No, this was not right. This was wrong. Something was wrong!

_She has passed._

No! No, it could not be. It simply could not. This could not happen!

_She is gone._

Without her all is lost. Lost, no point anymore. She was needed, could not go on without her. Screams. Screams, so much screaming.

_Find another._

Find her. Find her, she is still there. It can be saved. She can be saved.

_Go._

Find her. Find her. Must find her!

_GO!_

-

---

From faraway, though a deep fog, her voice broke through.

"Legolas! Please, wake up! Wake up!"

The hysteria in her voice was what pulled him out. He shot up, adrenaline soaring through him. Caled was beside him, face pale and eyes wide. She was gripping his shirt with a shaking hand.

"What's wrong?" he said, covering her hand with his. He was startled to hear himself gasping for breath.

Caled stared at him in disbelief. "What's wrong?" she repeated. "What's wrong? You were convulsing! I thought the bed was going to break! Not to mention the shouting!"

"Wha---"

"You were shouting something," she cut in, red eyes studying him closely. "I couldn't understand what, but you kept saying it over and over. What happened?"

His mouth had scarcely opened before the door to the room flew open. Mornie stood on the threshold, panting for breath.

His side was bleeding.

Caled and Legolas were on their feet instantly. Legolas caught Mornie just was he fell. His eyes rolled around, unfocused. He shook his head several times before he managed to concentrate on them.

"Downstairs," he ground out through gritted teeth. "Happened so quickly. Barely got away."

"Who did this?" Caled pressed, ripping open Mornie's shirt to reveal the wound. It was not a fatal cut yet he had lost quite a bit of blood.

Mornie gave a grunt, pushing away her hands and shaking his head. "No time," he said firmly when she tried again. "No time! Just go! Go!"

He fixed both of them with his golden stare and whisper the word they had been dreading.

"Reapers!"

----------

A. N.--- And you thought the questions would stop, no?

Thinking back, since I wrote Legolas' side of the relationship, I figured Caled deserved a shot.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	40. Chpt XXXIV: Tangled Webs

A.N.-- Violent content, blood, not nice things.

---

Chapter Thirty Four – Tangled Webs

_Chaos._

The word was the first to come to her mind as Caled and Legolas rushed down to see what had happened. For a moment, she was reminded of the desolation of the Shadow Elf village. Then her blood boiled.

What had once been the combination dining/reception area of the inn was now a mess of splintered furniture, broken walls, and bodies. A gaping hole in the wall led out into the streets, giving a view of the pandemonium outside.

And the screams. There was just so much screaming.

Silently, Caled looked over at Legolas. He was staring at the ruin, jaw clenched in fury. A part of her wanted to tell him to wait with Mornie. The sight of him convulsing in his sleep was fresh in her mind. What if he was unwell? Should he be risking himself in a fight that was sure to erupt?

Then his head turned to her and the words died in her mouth. No, she could not suggest it. The look on his face was enough to tell her that his health was the last thing on his mind.

"Be careful," Caled whispered, motioning to the outside.

Legolas nodded. Catching her by the arm, he pulled her against him. Her free hand snaked around his neck as they both met in a crushing, brief kiss. Drawing back, Legolas uttered, "You too."

They parted, Legolas running out into the streets and Caled hunting through the rubble.

Amazingly, she found that many of the bodies on the ground were merely unconscious. There were few injuries and several people roused themselves as she continued to shift through the mess. A few panicked upon awakening yet Caled calmed them, telling them to head upstairs to where Mornie was. While injured, he would be able to alert her if anything went wrong with the people around him.

She received her first shock of the night moments after Legolas left. Lifting a table to see if anyone was underneath, Caled stopped, stomach twisting. There was someone there.

Kaylen's mother. Or what was left of her.

Caled fought the urge to retch. The poor woman was missing the lower half of her body, as if someone had torn it apart. Her head had been dashed against the floor and now rested in a crimson pool of blood.

Caled lowered the table, breathing a word of prayer. No one deserved to die like that. She turned, continuing her search.

She refused to think Kaylen had died. Mornie himself had said that he saw her fleeing the Reapers, heading to the back of the room, before he had been slashed. Before heading out into the town, she was going to find Kaylen.

A crunch caught her ear. She spun, cracking her whip in readiness. Her eyes narrowed at the Reaper in front of her. It was still, paused in mid step facing her. Its head was tilted to the side, the grimy hair blocking a direct view of its eyes. It hunched its shoulders, a low gurgle coming from its throat.

"Filth!" Caled hissed, snapping her whip out. It lashed the Reaper across the chest.

The Reaper recoiled then snarled, lunging at her. Caled easily side stepped it, whip wrapping around its flailing arm. She pulled, knocking it off balance as it landed. It fell on its back with a loud '_thump_' just behind her.She drew her dagger from its sheath, raising it to plunge the blade into its heart. The creature jerked its head, the green strip of hair falling back away from its face.

And Caled stopped, confused.

The Reapers eyes were not green as it should have been. They were a pure white, softly glowing in the gloom. In fact the glow was pulsing, a rhythm that strongly reminded Caled of a heartbeat.

"Find her."

The Reaper's voice, low and raspy, broke through Caled's confusion. "What?" she said reflexively.

"Find her," it said again. It made no indication it was going to get up yet stretched its large hand up towards her. "Find---"

Caled drove the dagger into its heart, silencing it. She forced herself to take deep breaths, calming herself.

Something was not right. Reapers did not act like this. And what was wrong with its eyes? Was that normal?

A sob broke through the screams that still sounded. It had come from the demolished bar. Ripping her dagger from the dead Reaper, Caled moved towards the sound. The mirror and shelves of the bar had been shattered, glass now littering the area. There were drag marks running through the glass, leading to several pieces of broken tables and chairs that had been stacked a bit too orderly against the portion of the bar that still stood. Again, she heard a sob.

Daring to hope, Caled moved a large section of a table. A startled gasp came from behind it, something scuttling to move behind the rest of the shelter.

"Kaylen?"

From within the shadows of the shelter, a pair of blue eyes appeared, wide and scared.

Caled's breath left her in a rush of relief. She pulled the rest of the furniture away. The girl was curled into the far corner of the shelter, shaking and pale. "It's okay," Caled called. "It's me."

For a moment, Kaylen looked doubtful. Then she scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping in her haste. Caled quickly sheathed the dagger, not wanting to injure the girl, and caught Kaylen as she threw herself at her. Caled hugged the girl tightly.

"What happened, Kaylen?" Caled asked once the girl's sobbing slowed to a stop.

"I---I don't know," she stammered, running a hand over her eyes. "Mornie and I were just sitting here talking," she motioned to the remainder of the bar. "Then we heard screaming and---and then these...things appeared. They...they---" She stopped, struck by a thought. "Have you seen my momma?"

Caled felt the sorrowful expression come to her face before she could stop it. "I...I'm sorry, Kaylen," she said softly.

Comprehension dawned on the girl's pale face, turning it even whiter. She slowly started to shake her head, her face crumpling in despair. "No," she groaned. "No. No!"

Caled embraced Kaylen as a howl of anguish ripped from her young throat. She gently rocked the weeping girl, silent.

What else could she say?

---

Everywhere he turned, Legolas saw them. Reapers appeared and disappeared with every breath he took, mingling with the shadows. People were rushing all around him, trying to get away from the horrid creatures only to run into them. The streets were scattered with bodies, unconscious and otherwise.

Even with the torrent of sights and sounds around him, Legolas had enough sense to see little things that confused him.

The Reapers that he saw would appear through the shadows, thin, sharp hands clawing at whoever passed by them. They did not openly attack people, only stretch their arms out and if it made contact, strike.

Then, the Reaper would either recoil sharply and disappear into the shadows again or seize the person it had just lashed out at then vanish with the person in tow. It took a moment for Legolas to realize that the majority of the ones on the ground were men or boys.

Legolas remembered Lord Elrond reciting the letter he had received about a Reaper attack: _The strange thing was that the Reapers seemed intent on something other than killing. They kidnapped a large number of people, mainly young women._

But why?

The question continued to pound in his head, even as he defended himself against a Reaper whose hands reached out and found him. He slashed his long knives out in an upward motion, cutting into both sides of the Reaper's neck. It fumbled, hands briefly clutching its throat as its black blood flowed. Then it crumbled to the ground, the glow in its white eyes fading behind its strip of dark yellow hair.

And their eyes. Every Reaper he saw had the same glowing white eyes. What did it mean?

While he was generally not being outright attacked, Legolas did find himself in several small fights. When he saw a Reaper retreating with someone in their grasp, he broke the Reaper's grip if he got there in time. Certainly this infuriated the Reapers yet not every one of them retaliated.

That was another thing: the Reapers seemed preoccupied. Or at the very least they lacked a drive to fight.

Why?

Legolas was jerked sharply by his elbow as if someone had grabbed it. Yet when he looked, no one was there. He paused, eyes scanning the area. Dismissing it, he rushed to where a young woman was kicking against the Reaper attempting to drag her into the shadows. He threw his knife, striking the Reaper in the upper arm.

The Reaper let go of the woman, who ran as fast as she could away. The Reaper stared at the knife, its other hand hovering just above the hilt of the weapon. It seemed confused.

Again, Legolas' arm jerked. A stab of horror knocked the air out of his lungs: it was his left arm. Did it---

No. No, it was something else entirely. It had to be.

The Reaper, whose lower body had disappeared into the shadow of the building beside them, cocked its head at Legolas. Its white eyes narrowed slightly behind its navy stripped hair.

"Find her," the Reaper rasped. Its hand stretched out slowly towards him.

Legolas stilled. His dream came back to him.

"Find her," it said again.

"Who?" The word passed his lips before he realized it.

Its head moved to the other side. For a moment, its mouth curved in a smirk before smoothing out into a blank face. It uttered a word Legolas did not know, guttural and pronounced with a soft '_hiss_' at the end.

Another jerk of his arm. A tingle in the back of his head made him shudder. Then he heard it.

**_/the sovereign...\\_**

The Reaper's eyes lit up. Its head nodded as it said the word again. And again, the words '**_the sovereign_**' were whispered in his ear voicelessly.

"St-Stop doing that!" Legolas shouted, unnerved.

The Reaper hunched, pulling its legs out of the shadows and crouching on the ground. It stretched its neck unnaturally, gripping the knife in its arm with its teeth. Smoothly, it ripped the weapon out of its skin, laying it on the ground between them. It backed away a few steps, gurgling in its throat. Its feet began to disappear once again into the shadows.

A dagger flew past Legolas, narrowly missing his arm. It struck the Reaper in the forehead. The Reaper shook, back arching, then collapsed.

Caled gave Legolas a sharp rap to his shoulder, thankfully his unmarred one. She gave him a look over, eyes clearing asking, '_Why didn't you kill it?_' yet said nothing.

Beside her, wide eyed and tears streaking her cheeks, Kaylen stood, taking in the carnage around them.

Legolas glanced at Kaylen then to Caled, silently asking about her mother. She shook her head, motioning for him not to say anything about it. "She's not hurt," Caled said. "Only scared."

"You are sure you're not injured, Kaylen?" Legolas asked, stooping so that they were level.

Kaylen nodded, blue eyes slowly moving to look at him.

Legolas felt a stab of pity from the look in her eyes. She was far too young to be exposed to this sort of thing.

"What should we do?" Caled said next, surveying the area. "They seem to be retreating."

And indeed they were. Already Legolas had noticed a steady decline of Reapers. Soon there may be none. "See to the wounded, I guess," Legolas said.

"Miss Caled-Veleg?" Kaylen spoke up hesitantly. When Caled looked down at her, the girl said nervously, "Is...is Mornie all right? I lost track of him when...when..." she trailed off.

"He's fine," Caled reassured her. "He woke us up and told us what happened. Don't worry, his wound wasn't too serious."

Kaylen nodded, visibly relaxing. "Do you need any help?" she asked.

Caled smiled gently at her. "A bit. Do you remember what room we're staying in?" At the girl's eager nod, she went on, "Legolas and I each have small sacks with medicine in them. Mornie should know which ones they are. Can you go with him and get them---"

A harsh inhale from Legolas cut her off. A searing pain had ripped through him, knocking him off his feet. His vision blacked out for a moment.

Caled gasped his name, reaching out to catch him before he fell. He landed hard against her, his aching side jarring painfully. She wrenched whatever was causing the pain out. When she drew back her hand, it was slick and red, something clutched in it. His eyes cleared. With startling clarity, he saw what was in her hand: his own discarded long knife.

Comprehension struck them at the same time. They both turned.

Kaylen stood just feet from them, looking perplexedly at them. Then she jolted, straightening. An expression of confused wonder crossed her features as she slowly lowered her head to look down.

A thin, deep purple skinned hand protruded from her chest.

Caled screamed. Whatever she said, none of them knew. It may have just been a wordless expression of rage and horror.

The Reaper lowered its head, resting its chin on Kaylen's shoulder. The dagger Caled had thrown stuck out above its right eye, black blood still pouring from the wound. The black filth now flowed down, mingling with Kaylen's own red life essence.

Through their horror and rage, both Caled and Legolas noticed that same thing: the Reaper's eyes were no longer glowing. They were dim yet still visibly white.

The hand the Reaper had punched through Kaylen's frail body twisted, long fingers reaching down and fisting in her blood soaked clothes. It pulled her back against its thin chest, the other arm circling around her in an almost protective embrace.

"KAYLEN!" Caled screamed. She shot to her feet, hand outstretched to the girl.

Kaylen's eyes glazed over yet moved at the sound of Caled's voice. Her hand rose, shuddering, and lifted towards her. For a brief moment, their fingers touched.

Then Caled was knocked back, slamming into Legolas. The Reaper tightened its hold on Kaylen. It breathed to the form between it and the other two, "Finish them, Dufa'Ga." Then, it lowered itself and the girl into the shadows.

The hunched form cowered lower to the ground. In the darkness of the night, its mane of black and white shone brightly.

"Damn you!"

Caled threw herself at the Reaper, knocking them both to the ground. Ignoring the pain in his side, Legolas got up and wrestled Caled off the prone form. Caled fought, first against him then against another scream that bubbled close to her throat.

The Reaper slowly pushed herself up, sliding away from them. She was twitching, a violent tremor that caused one side of her body to seize every few seconds.

"Why did you stop me?" Caled yelled at the Reaper, voice hoarse and thick with tears. "Why? Answer me!"

"Too---too la---te," the Reaper replied, voice shaking from the tremors. "Gi---girl will die s---soon."

"Better to die here than with hell spawn," Legolas spat, tightening his grip on Caled when she struggled again. Though he was equally appalled at the thought, he knew Kaylen would be dead in minutes.

There was no way to survive a wound like that.

A choked sound came from the Reaper. As it progressed, Legolas was stunned. It was laughing. Caled must had recognized it as well for she stopped struggling to stare. It was a derisive, unhinged laugh. The Reaper raised her head. The two before her drew back, alarmed.

As with the others, the Reaper's eyes had changed. Yet this change was drastically different. Her left eye was pure white and glowing. Her right eye, the same as the side that was twitching, was neither pure white nor the white-on-black that it had been when they last saw her.

It looked normal. Staring at them under the untidy mop of hair was a hazel eye set against white. The skin surrounding the eye was not black but a peachy tone.

"He---hell spawn ind---deed," the Reaper said, drawing their attention away from her changed features. "You will---will find no one wh---who ag---agrees with you m---more than I."

"Why did you do this?" Caled said, no longer shouting yet speaking the words through clenched teeth. "Why did you attack this town? Why k---kill her?" she stuttered out the words as another sob stopped her for a second.

Again, a short, choking laugh. "If it w---was my choice, th---this would ne---nev---never happen," she said, motioning around them. "The cy---cycle would die---die without inn---innocents involved---ed."

"Cycle?" Caled and Legolas said in unison.

A grimace passed over the Reaper's face. "Ca---cats eat their young---young. Sp---spiders are eaten _by_ the---their young. Life---life is full of disgu---disgusting things. And it---it cycles back."

The Reaper took a shaky breath, the hand still racked with spasms pressing against her mouth. She jerked sharply, turning her head before vomiting something pale and thick onto the ground.

For the first time, a question passed through Legolas' brain. "Who are you?"

Both Caled and the Reaper raised wide eyes to him. The Reaper's mouth, partially concealed behind her hand, quirked in a smile for a second.

As he watched, the Reaper's spasms suddenly ceased. Her eyes began to change, the left dimming before darkening on the outsides. The right as well darkened before its white iris bloomed in the center. In perhaps ten seconds, the Reaper looked the same as she had that day in Rivendell.

She blinked her newly refreshed eyes, rubbing her thin knuckles against her right eye. She let out a heavy sigh, lifting a pity filled gaze onto the two of them. "The cycle is finished," she whispered.

Her feet began to meld into the shadow. Titling her head to the side, the Reaper said quietly, "I am what he called me: a Dufa'Ga."

As the Reaper's head disappeared, Legolas felt that same tingle in his head. And again a voiceless whisper:

_**/mongrel...\\**_

---

A total of twenty-three people were missing. Nearly three times that number injured. A dozen or so known dead.

Those capable and not too grief stricken tended to the wounded. The atmosphere was tense and worry filled throughout the entire town. A handful of people wandered around the torn streets, calling for loved ones that would never hear their names.

Dawn had come, shedding new light to the damage done to the town itself. Buildings were now riddled with holes in the walls, ceilings, and floors. Stands and booths in the market were shattered. Several stables had been torn apart, the animals having bolted in the middle of the riot now roaming freely, oblivious to the heartache that permeated the air.

Legolas' injury was mild, the blade having slipped just under his ribs and missing any vital organ. Mornie's as well was giving him little trouble.

Fatigued from both tending wounds and grief, Caled had collapsed into a deep sleep. Legolas was weary as well but his mind was too busy to let him sleep. He simply sat in the partially intact tavern and thought, Caled resting with her head in his lap. Mornie curled against the far wall of the tavern, golden eyes wide and rimmed with dark circles.

Mornie, in his view of events, blamed himself for Kaylen's death. He kept insisting that he should have known better than to leave her alone. That he should have brought her with him when he ran to their room. That he should have gone to get her once his wound was hastily bandaged. And so many other 'that he should have's that no one was changing his mind.

Legolas reviewed the night's events silently, one hand idly stroking Caled's hair. So many questions swirled around that he knew he would develop a headache if he tried to answer them all.

Yet in looking back, one thing stood out with crystal clarity: it had not been planned.

Whatever had happened last night, it had been a spontaneous thing. It was one of those things Caled would blame on their 'weird luck.' If it had been a deliberate attack, the Reapers would have zeroed in on them. Instead, when met face to face, they were ignored for the most part. They were only attacked when they struck.

And what that Reaper had said: _Hell spawn indeed. You will find no one who agrees with you more than I._

From her words she hated what she was. Other Reapers sought and even found a perverse bliss in killing. Yet Legolas had never seen that Reaper openly attack anyone. She was the one that had taken Caled from her cell in Orthanc, Legolas was certain of it. She had stopped that Reaper in Rivendell from attacking them. Even defending the Reaper last night, she had not harmed Caled in any way.

A part of an old rhyme came to him, oddly echoing that Reaper's illustration of disgusting things that cycle around: Oh, what tangled webs we weave.

This was certainly a tangled web. But what waited at the core of it?

Cool fingers lightly touched the hand stroking Caled's hair. Legolas looked down, meeting Caled's red gaze. A stab of guilt struck him at the concern in her eyes.

When bandaging his side, she had caught a glimpse of his expanding scar. He had quickly covered it yet she had seen enough to know it had changed.

Legolas knew he would have to tell her, about the scar, the dream, and even the visions he had. Still, he hated the thought of telling her that he saw her beaten, dead, or empty. He did not want her to hear such things.

Heavy footsteps caught their attention. Across the tavern, Mornie sat up, brow creased in baffled surprise. A shadow fell over the two of them.

"Well, this is certainly a delightful shock."

The laughing voice made them look up. Caled gave a gasp.

"Bowman?"

----------

A. N.-- (scratches head) Anyone else surprised at the increased rate of my postings? Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	41. Chpt XXXV: A Single Thread

Chapter Thirty Five – A Single Thread

The grinning, handsome face was indeed Bowman. They had not seen it at first due to the fact that his hair was cropped close to his head and colored a dusty brown. His ears were rounded, another clue to the fact that he was disguised.

He hefted a large traveling bag off his shoulder, rattling the table he set it on. He surveyed the damage done to the tavern, letting out a low whistle. "Reminds me of when..." he trailed off, a frown crossing his face.

"What are you doing here?" Caled asked, quickly getting to her feet.

Bowman chuckled. "Nice to see you, too." His gaze settled on Mornie momentarily before turning back to them. "I was passing by, saw the damage, and thought I could earn a meal or two by doing repairs. Never thought I'd run into you. What are you doing way out this way? Thought you guys were heading back to Rivendell."

Caled and Legolas exchanged a glance. "We already returned," Legolas said slowly. Even though their voices did not carry far, he was aware that every ear in the room was tuned to them, curious at the stranger and his intentions.

Bowman seemed to have the same thought. "Got a place to relax in? Or as much as you can in this scenery." He lifted his bag, wincing when the table collapsed.

Caled nodded, motioning for Mornie to follow them. They led Bowman through the torn streets, taking more time than usual now that they had to skirt around debris that had not been moved. They came to the inn, which thankfully had little damage to the structure itself.

As they climbed the stairs to their room, Legolas asked, "What brings you out this way, Bowman?"

"I believe we should wait until we're certain no prying ear can hear," the disguised Elf muttered, nodding to the curious faces that peeked around their doors.

Once they were safely in their room, Bowman turned to the closed door. He raised a hand, tracing the frame of the door and the door jam with two fingers. A faint light glimmered where his fingers touched the wood. He then went and repeated the process to all the windows. When this was done, he sat heavily in an empty chair, twisting a ring on his right hand. His image shimmered before focusing.

He regained his normal, colorful appearance. He had cut his hair since last they saw, though not as severely as his disguise. It now brushed his shoulders. To both Caled and Mornie's amusement, it still remained the same color: bright green at the tips that faded into deep blue at his scalp.

Catching sight of their shared smirks, Bowman rolled his eyes. "You can thank Aurora for the dye job," he grumbled. "I swear, I've done everything short of burning the stupid stuff and I still can't get it back to normal."

"In answer to your earlier question," Legolas spoke up, sending Caled a silencing smile, "we did return to Rivendell. But it was plain to see that what we were looking for was not in Mount Gundabad yet in the south. We're traveling to the southern parts of Gondor. We've stayed in this town to wait out the winter."

Bowman nodded. "A wise choice. Many have died trying to brave Rohan in winter. The cold may not kill them but the harsh weather combined with running out of proper supplies..." he trailed off, shrugging as if to say 'what can you do?'

Caled, who was stooping by the hearth to restart the fire, said over her shoulder, "What has brought you this way? Surely you did not run out of work in your village."

Bowman was silent for a while. He leaned forward, propping his chin on his clasped hands and his elbows atop his knees. Caled stood and moved to sit beside Legolas on one of the beds, the easiest location to look at Bowman. He smiled softly, easily gauging the change in their relationship.

A tired sigh escaped him. He hung his head, one hand rubbing his face to fight fatigue. Then, in a low, worried voice he spoke. "I'm trying to find them."

Legolas, Caled, and Mornie all looked at one another.

Raising his sapphire eyes, he said, "A few weeks, maybe months back, I decided to pay them a visit. The place was ransacked. I couldn't tell if it was Reapers or Orcs or both or what. But it did scare me. I backtracked a bit and found a trail that led southwards. I still can't tell if its them or whatever it was that tore their place apart. But it's the only lead I got."

"You---You mean..." Caled said haltingly.

Bowman nodded. "Aurora and the others are gone."

Caled felt as if she had been punched. The expressions on Mornie and Legolas' faces mirrored her own.

Bowman went on. "They are very good at hiding their tracks. Very good. In some way I haven't figured out, they can even make their trail look like it belongs to Orcs. That's why I'm not sure what happened. All I know is that I can't find them."

He gave a short, mirthless laugh, lifting an arm. Several thin bracelets hung there, not near the amount Denya wore but a fair number. "All my tracking and finding gadgets: useless. Denya's sharp. She messed with my gear, made it to where I can't tail them as easily as I want."

There was a silent spell, during which Caled gripped Legolas' hand, both needing the support.

"What happened?" Bowman suddenly asked. He waved out the window, indicating the outside. "To the town, I mean."

"Reapers," Mornie said dully, lowering his eyes. "Last night around ten or so they attacked. Or whatever it was," he added with a snort. A pained grimace crossed his face.

When Bowman frowned at Legolas, the Wood Elf elaborated. "We are not sure what it was. They attacked, yes. But they took several people with them, wherever they went. They...they didn't seem to be concerned with our presence, so it wasn't for our benefit," he shrugged, unsure exactly how to word it.

The smith thought for a moment. Then, slowly, "You say they took people with them? As in kidnapped?"

"For lack of a better word," Caled nodded. "They seemed keen on female hostages." She winced, eyes darkening.

Bowman raised a brow, glancing at their tense faces. "I take it there was personal loss as well?" he said quietly. At the silent affirmative from Legolas, he shook his head, giving a sigh. He stood, cracking his knuckles. "Not to sound inconsiderate, but I'm going to poke around a bit. See what I can find."

Legolas nodded, feeling Caled's hand tighten on his. Mornie's head sharply turned towards her, brow creased slightly. As Bowman deactivated the wards he had placed around the room, the shape shifter said, "I'll go with you. Two sets of eyes may be better."

Bowman's gaze flickered to the other two before he said, "You know the town better than I do, anyway. It couldn't hurt."

A slightly caged feeling crept upon Legolas as the two left the room with a wave over their shoulders. A part of his mind reminded himself that he should have expected this. Still, it did not mean he was eager to do it.

"Legolas, what's going on?"

Caled spoke with an even tone, indicating neither anger or dismay. It was the steady way she was watching him that told him she would get an answer, one way or another.

For a moment, Legolas considered saying 'With what?' but knew he may be sporting a burn along with his other wounds for it. He looked away from her, trying to collect his thoughts.

When he did not reply, Caled gave a soft sigh. "I saw the scar," she said quietly. "It grew. And what was it you were dreaming about earlier? Or were you dreaming at all? Just...talk to me. Please."

The concern in her voice prodded the knot of guilt in his chest. "In all honesty, I don't know. There are...things I haven't told you." His words sounded rushed in his ears. Feeling restless, he stood, giving her hand a slight squeeze before releasing it.

Caled remained on the bed as he paced, silent. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking of where to begin. He came to a stop, digging his fingers into his scalp as he fought the urge to leave the room. He closed his eyes, deciding to just plunge in.

"Do you remember the village we stayed in? Right after we ran into the Guild?" He heard her confirming grunt, finding it easier to talk if he did not look at her. At least not yet. "I went walking around soon after we checked in at the inn. I found a fortuneteller there. Or rather she found me. Anyway, she was the real thing. She showed me several visions." He paused, swallowing to moisten his suddenly dry throat, and opened his eyes. Should he be telling her this? "In fact, I still see them occasionally."

"What are they about?" Caled asked, curious.

Legolas grimaced as several of the visions popped into his head at her words. Her beaten body. Her chained to the wall like an animal with vacant eyes. Her lifeless hand on a blood soaked floor.

He turned away from her, gripping the edge of the dresser for support. He stared into his reflection for several seconds before flicking his blue eyes upwards to her reflection. She watched him closely, her face the essence of concern.

He had never told her of the visions for this very reason: he did not want her to worry. He had wanted to protect her from the disturbing things he had seen. The fact that several of the visions had indeed happened without him realizing it alarmed him.

How could he tell her he saw her dead?

"Many things," Legolas said at last. "They are jagged, unclear. Pieces of conversations or scenes. Yet those that have happened fit seamlessly. I saw your reaction to the attack on the Shadows Elves that very night."

Caled's eyes widened slightly.

"All I saw was you screaming in a charred wasteland," he explained. "I heard some of your words but not all." He stopped, pondering what to say next. "I've also seen that Reaper. The one from last night. I've seen her in such bizarre circumstances I don't understand a thing about it. I don't understand a lot of things," he said heavily.

Several minutes passed, during which they stared at one another through the mirror. Then Caled slowly spoke, her tone evidence of her apprehension of the answer, "You've seen something else entirely, haven't you?"

Legolas nodded, dropping his eyes to stare at the grains in the wood. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. "I...I also see you," he said softly, trying to stem the shake in his voice. "I've seen you...beaten. I've even seen you d---dead," he faltered over the last word.

He heard her sharp intake of breath. He resisted the urge to look up at her. "I also had a dream along that line. It did not feel like the visions, but it scared me. It stills scares me, Caled." He swallowed again, wishing he would stop talking.

A soft touch at his back made him start, turning around. Somehow Caled had crossed the distance without alerting Legolas of it. His mouth opened to say something. The words died in his mouth as she raised a hand and gently touched his cheek.

Her mouth titled in a half smile, red eyes shining with tears yet they did not fall. "You don't have to hide your fear," she whispered. "It doesn't weaken you, Legolas. It just shows you have something you don't want to lose."

Legolas stared at her as her words registered. Then he pulled her against him tightly. Caled was startled by the sudden embrace yet looped her arms around his middle, resting her head against his chest. He nuzzled against her neck, earning him a soft giggle.

The giggle stopped at his words.

"You are not a 'thing,' _coramin_."

Caled felt her heart pound, certain he could feel it as well close as they were. Not for the first time she was amazed by the way he could make her feel so loved. She closed her eyes, tightening her hold on him slightly.

"It's a figure of speech, dummy," she retorted, voice muffled by his shirt.

"My statement stands," he replied. Caled knew from his tone he was smiling.

They lingered that way for a moment before Legolas stepped back. Caled lifted a hand, resting it over his left shoulder. She looked up at him, one brow raised in question.

Withholding a sigh, Legolas grasped the ends of his shirt and pulled it off. He grimaced once the garment was off, the strange affliction flashing at him from the dresser mirror.

Caled's eyes widened in surprise. She gingerly traced the new path, circling around Legolas to fully gauge how it had changed. She ran a hand over the graying skin, lightly tapping it. "Can you still feel?" she asked.

"Yes, and it doesn't hurt, oddly enough." He winced when she pinched a chunk of the grey skin. "That does!" he exclaimed at her grin.

"And there was no warning? No tingle or pain before it happened?"

Legolas started to say 'no' but stopped. "I think so," he said slowly. He recounted the spasm he had had while loading wagons that day. "It was only after that when it changed," he concluded.

Caled frowned in thought, still examining it. "Has it ever done that before?"

"Before? No. But..." he hesitated only briefly. Catching sight of her warning glare, he continued. "During that riot or whatever it was, it did."

Caled sighed, shaking her head. She motioned for him to put his shirt back on, silently admiring the rest of him before it was covered. "Was that what you were dreaming about before?" she asked tentatively. "The same as the visions, I mean."

She could see a shadow of pain flash across his features. Thankfully it did not stay. "No, that dream was some time ago. This one---I'm not sure what it was."

Caled cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"It...it was not like I could see anything," Legolas said slowly, trying to word it correctly. Still, it was a hard thing to do when he could scarcely make sense of it. "The other one was mostly sight and sound. But this was more feeling. More like...instinct."

"Instinct?" Caled repeated, blinking.

"Yes." He closed his eyes, racking his brain as he dug up the dream from the previous night. "I knew something was wrong. I could feel it. And I had to find something. Or someone. I just can't recall wha---"

"The sovereign."

Legolas' eyes flew open, staring at Caled in shock. She clapped a hand to her mouth, apparently stunned by her words. "How---how do you know that?" he stammered.

Caled raised her wide eyes to him, paling slightly. "That's what you were shouting," she said softly. "Before I could wake you up. You kept screaming 'find the sovereign' over and over."

They stared at one another, Caled in concern and Legolas in slowly growing horror. She did not know, she had not heard that voiceless whisper as he had.

She did not know what the Reapers had been looking for.

---

"What are your plans now?"

The question was unexpected yet somewhat appropriate. It was just after dusk, all four of them huddled with their hard earned meal before them in the tavern. Food stores had not been too damaged yet the holders were stingy with the portions given out. Those who had done hard labor through the day got a bit more than those who loafed about. Still, food was food.

Legolas gave a shrug, stirring his stew with a hunk of bread. "If we can manage it," he said, "possibly stay here a week more. The worst of the storms will be over by then. Rohan would not be as dangerous."

Bowman nodded, trading Caled her bread for a small block of cheese. He bit into the bread, chewing thoughtfully. Swallowing, he took a breath. "If this does not seem too rash, what would you say of me coming with you?"

The three of them blinked, Mornie dropping his spoon in surprise. "To southern Gondor?" Caled posed.

"No, not that far," Bowman said, shaking his head. "It's just that the trail I'm following is going southwards. I've been on this trail for months and I must say it's as boring as hell having no one around to talk to." He paused, letting that sink in. "If the trail deviates from your path, I'll leave amicably. No strings attached."

They swapped glances, each silently reading the others' reactions. Finally, Legolas said with a bit of a smile, "If you don't mind Caled's snoring, you're welcomed to join us."

Even as he dodged Caled's miniature fireball retaliation, Legolas thought it had been worth it for the look on her face.

----------

A.N.-- Closure! Or some of it.

Yes, yes, this probably made things more confusing. Guess what? It may get worse. But rest assured: questions eventually get answered. It just takes a while.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	42. Chpt XXXVI: Out of Sight

A. N.-- Minor editing done to Chapters 6 and 10.

---

Chapter Thirty Six – Out of Sight

Caled watched the two of them working, her fingers gripping the windowpane tightly. She fought against the urge to scream out her frustration and anger, allowing only a scowl to mar her face.

Bowman finished digging the hole, his arm appearing out of the top. Legolas clasped it and pulled him out of the hole. The two stopped for a moment. They looked over at the neat row of long, cloth wrapped bundles beside them. Caled could see Bowman's shoulders slump as he shook his head. Even at this distance, she saw Legolas' hand grasp the shovel in a bruising grip and his jaw tighten. All evidence of the feelings they shared.

Behind her, she heard the soft, labored breathing of the one in the bed. She sighed, turning away from the window. She faced her charge, mind spinning with unspoken curses.

It had taken them over three weeks of trekking through Rohan's fields before coming to a village. Weary of using the grass as bedding and rocks as pillows, they had planned to stay for a day or two. The plan had been to rest, restock any supplies they needed, and see if they could earn a bit of money doing a quick job. It was now the sixth day of their stay in the village.

Legolas and Bowman had been expecting to help loading wagons or repairing various things. Now they were needed digging the mass of graves and moving the bodies into their resting places.

Mornie had been hoping to do any odd job he could. He was swiftly given the task of updating the village leaders on the progress or decline of several of the villagers.

Caled had thought perhaps she could earn a copper or two washing dishes for a tavern or restaurant. She found herself checking on those in the inn, which had turned into a makeshift ward for the local healers. If she found one that had taken a turn for the worst, she had to alert those in charge so the bed could be cleaned for someone who needed it.

This village, much like the one they had left behind, had suffered a blow from the Reapers. The pattern fit the rumors they had been hearing for weeks. Every one of those who were suffering had vanished for a whole day about nine days ago. Then, in random increments, they each fell into a coma. Some only remained as such for a brief time before dying.

Caled grimaced. They was all horrible ways to die. Suffocating when nothing was touching them. Turning blue before passing. Or worst, going mad.

Her neck and cheek stung in memory. Just that morning she had seen up close how that particular mode carried out. She had been checking on a young boy when the boy's yes opened, wild and scared. He yelled in gibberish nonsense, thrashing violently.

Caled had tried to calm him, at the same time calling for help. Then the boy had lunged at her, hands wrapping around her throat with a strength no one his age possessed. Had Bowman and Legolas not been just a few doors down, she might have died as well. The boy had seized seconds after they ripped him from her, giving one last thrash before he went limp.

She could handle the bruises and scratches. She had suffered worse and if her intuition was correct worse was still to come. It had been the expression on the dead boy's face that she could not handle.

The terror it held was enough to ensure she would have nightmares.

The young woman on the bed before Caled was still unconscious. Earlier her skin had begun to pale yet not to a bluish hue. She may survive whatever was ailing her.

A soft noise from the door made Caled jump. Mornie stood on the threshold, looking tired. "Another two," he said before Caled could ask. "The toll is pass twenty now."

Caled closed her eyes, hands balling into fists. When would it stop? "Still no idea as to what this is?" she asked, teeth clenched.

Mornie shook his head. "The healers are baffled."

She snorted. "They're not the only ones." She folded the blankets up to the woman's chin and felt her brow. No temperature, that was something to be thankful for.

Mornie leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. He watched the woman's face closely, a calculating look in his gold eyes. "How much longer do you think we should stay here?" he questioned when she came to stand by him.

Caled shrugged, shaking her head. "Maybe another night. We need to continue. All this stopping may be what the Reapers want."

He nodded, thought absently Caled noticed. His gaze was still fixed on the prone woman.

"Is something wrong?" Caled tentatively asked, glancing to the woman before back to him.

For a moment, Mornie did nothing. Then, slowly, he turned to look at her. The grave gleam in his eyes made Caled step back in surprise.

"Mornie?"

"I've been arguing with myself about when the appropriate time was," Mornie said. He spoke quickly and in a low voice, hardly moving his lips. "And these happenings are far too coincidental for my liking."

"What are---"

"Things are moving far too quickly," he went on. "Yet I don't know near enough of what I'd like. I may never!" he added, a self-annoyed expression crossing his face.

"Mornie, please! Wh---"

Mornie seized her wrist, stopping her in mid-sentence. Caled's eyes darted down before returning to stare at him. His hand was trembling.

"It is not a curse, Caled," he whispered. "It is not. All curses were removed from you. The knowledge was removed as well, nothing more. You---" He broke off, releasing her just as a voice called their names.

Legolas came from the direction of the stairway. "There you are," he said, coming to them.

"Finished with the graves?" Mornie asked, acting as if nothing had happened seconds ago.

"Unfortunate work as it is, yes," Legolas said, running his hand through his sweaty hair. "They're giving lunch now. Better hurry if you want to eat."

Without waiting for either of them, Mornie turned and hurried down the stairs, his stomach growling with hunger.

"Caled?"

She blinked, pulling her gaze away from the direction Mornie had just left. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, eyes narrowing as he studied the marks on her neck and face.

"I'm fine, just tired," she said, waving a hand. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to check in on a few people."

Legolas did not say anything but nodded. Caled smiled and turned to check on the woman in the room she had just left. She did not expect to see any change, it was a reflexive habit she had developed during their stay.

Caled froze at what she saw. Legolas, who had been about to ask her something, was alarmed to see her pale. He stepped to her side, peering over her head to see what was the matter.

The bed was empty.

---

Before they left the following afternoon, over half of the remaining victims had vanished. There was no trace to be found of them. The beds and pallets the victims had lain in were undisturbed, as if the occupants had evaporated into thin air.

Despite being begged to stay and help, Bowman managed to dissuade the village leaders from delaying their departure. Whatever he had told them worked for there was little resistance when they were given a payment for their service. At Caled's insistence, they only took a small amount of money.

According to the directions they had been given, the surest route would be to keep the mountains to their right. The trail Bowman was following stuck to this route, prolonging the partnership for the time being.

Their way was unblocked, a sign that did not ease their worries. As far as they knew, Zage and Ke'Dab were aware of their travel. The fact that they met less resistance the further south they went did not make sense.

Such was Legolas' thoughts one night, a few days after they had restarted the trek. He sat, staring blankly into the small fire they had lit. They were in open territory, just before the Firien Wood at the edge of Rohan. If anyone came upon them, especially a Reaper or Orc, they would be seen regardless of whether or not they set a fire.

Bowman was hunting for the night meal, their rations of jerky and other preserved meats already depleted from the previous night. Mornie was pacing a few yards away, deep in his own thoughts. Caled, who had drawn the short straw, was refilling their water skins in the Mering stream.

Sunset had just begun, staining everything a reddish color. Legolas scarcely noticed this, absorbed as he was. He mentally replayed everything he knew that concerned the Reapers and every dealing he had had with them. Yet he gleamed nothing from it. He could not understand what they were planning or why they had allowed him and the others to get this close to the south.

And he still had no guess as to what he had heard that night of the Reaper's raid.

One corner of him mind whispered a thought that was too terrible to consider: what if he had heard a Reaper? What is they had found a way to get inside his mind?

Legolas shivered, revolted at the idea. He would sooner die than allow that to happen.

But what if it already had?

Something touched his shoulder.

Legolas jumped, hand automatically reaching for his long knife. He relaxed when he saw it was Caled.

She stifled a laugh, seeing the tense lines creasing his face. She unloaded her burden, the skins making a soft '**THUMP**' on the ground, and sat beside him. "What're you thinking about?" she asked, slipping her hand in his.

Legolas shrugged, "Nothing and everything. I'm just...wound up."

"You're not alone in that respect," Caled sighed, squeezing his hand. "I'm beginning to wonder if this isn't all some elaborate scheme to drive me crazy."

His face crack into a smile, earning a smirk from Caled. He looped his arm around her, drawing her close. "Maybe so. Maybe."

Caled settled against him, both drawing comfort in the other's presence.

The sun had just started to chip away into the horizon when they saw Mornie stiffen. They both sat up straight, looking in direction he had turned. A figure was rapidly approaching, crouched low to the ground. As it drew near, they recognized it as Bowman. When the fact that he had no game with him registered, they all shot to their feet, Caled quickly extinguishing the fire.

They met him part way, mimicking him and crouching low. He was breathing heavily, face taunt with tension. He glanced over his shoulder before saying, "There's a host approaching. Their numbers are spread thin but a large portion is sure to sweep by us." He took a steadying breath that did not still the slight shake in his voice. "Orcs. And...they bear the White Hand."

Caled inhaled sharply.

"But he's dead!" Mornie said curtly before anyone else could speak. "Saruman is dead! Why would they be marching with a dead man's banner? What point would it be?"

Bowman's brows rose slightly. "Have you ever heard of revenge? Another thing: they're coming from the North."

Legolas frowned, thinking hard. "Reinforcements?" he posed.

Bowman nodded. "That's what I'm thinking."

"Should we try to avoid them?"

The words had just left his mouth when a rough cry broke the air. A large number of the host was coming into view, a lone scout a bit ahead of them bellowing the sighting. They could see that the line of beings stretched out further than they could see yet only small part of it detached itself and turned to where they stood.

Legolas swallowed, counting well over sixty on coming beasts. Yet they were still a ways away, perhaps escape was still an option.

Caled must have sensed his thoughts. She released her whip, cracking it against the ground. "I won't be taken by running away," she snapped. "If I go down, I'll go down fighting! I won't let him take you as he did me!"

The Wood Elf hardly heard Mornie response. He stared at Caled, his ears echoing with her words.

Another vision had occurred.

A second rough cry broke his thoughts. The detached army was closing in. Fighting was the only way now.

Bowman uttered something that was either an oath or a prayer. Mornie uncertainly gripped the dagger he had grown accustomed to using during sparring matches over the past weeks. Caled once again cracked her whip. Legolas steeled himself, setting a firm grip in his long knives. Without discussing it, all four of them rushed into the fray.

Despite their vast number, the Orcs were obviously drained from travel. They moved more sluggishly that normal, giving Legolas and his party the opportunity to dispose of a good number.

Yet it was not enough. The more durable Orcs lingered back, letting the others fight first. They were trying to tired their opponent before going in for the kill.

Legolas quickly found himself separated from the others. All around he saw hideous, twisted faces baring down on him. He forced himself to concentrate, knowing a single error would cost him dearly.

An Orc tried to catch him in the side. Legolas rolled with the blade, stopping it from piercing him with his long knife. Flipping onto his feet again, he slashed the Orc across the chest and neck. It fell to the ground to be replaced by another. And another. And another.

He could feel his muscles beginning to protest. His scarred shoulder was already seizing up, limiting his movements. He cursed the blasted injury silently, wishing it would vanish.

Twisting, Legolas ripped through the armor of a smaller Orc, passing his knife between the ribs. He could feel the blade puncture the lung and withdrew it. The dying body fell to its knees.

Legolas saw a flash of something that did not fit with the surroundings, something he had not expected to see, in the place the Orc had just stood. Then hands grabbed him, catching him off guard. They spun him around, facing the oddity.

A orange striped Reaper stood there, grinning with its wide mouth at him.

Legolas swore, jerking violently at the Orcs that held him. He was forced onto his knees, facing the Reaper.

The Reaper made an admonishing sound, shaking a finger at him. "Silly Elf," it rasped. "Thought you would run from Master, did you? Foolish, stupid Elf."

"You mean Zage?" Legolas spat, still fighting against his captors.

The Reaper's eyes widened then narrowed. "You dare speak his name? Ungrateful filth!" it hissed, shaking in rage. "You shall be taught manners yet. Oh, yes!" It once again grinned. It raised a thin hand and reached out towards him.

"Not a chance!"

A ball of fire connected with the Reaper's arm. It hissed, glaring at Caled who stood feet away. She snarled at it, flipping her dagger into a better grip, and glared a challenge. The Orcs around her did not attack, merely stood at a distance to make certain she could not escape.

To their surprise, the Reaper began to chuckle. It kept its orange eyes on Caled and slowly shook its head. "Poor, blind fool," it murmured. They were startled to hear a note of pity in its voice. "You don't even know."

Swifter than they could see, it snapped an arm out to Legolas. Its hand grasped the top of his head, fingers digging into his scalp painfully. Legolas bit his tongue, refusing to cry out.

"He will be a fine host," the Reaper said, eyes still on Caled. "A fine one indeed." Its head titled to the side. "Would you be at peace then? To have him Reap your Spark? Would you surrender then?"

"I'll surrender when I'm dead!" Caled spat. Even though she spoke fiercely, her gaze kept flickering to the Reaper's hand, uncertain what it was planning to do.

Still, it chuckled. "Poor fool. Of course you would be dead."

Its hand tightened as its feet began to disappear into the ground.

Caled's eyes widened. "NO!" She started forward.

A crack like thunder rent the air. Everyone stopped, looking up to the serene sky in confusion. Then a loud commotion grew with increasing intensity.

Legolas felt the Orcs release him, closely followed by the Reaper. He looked wildly around, trying to see what was happening in the darkening night. The fields were littered with dead bodies, Bowman and Mornie both standing looking around as disoriented as Legolas.

Forms that were neither Reaper nor Orc appeared on the field. In the dim light he could not see what they were or their precise number. Only that the forms attacked without mercy to anything that raised a hand against them.

Hands grabbed him around the shoulders. Caled pulled him against her, shaking. She was gasping for breath and her skin was clammy. She too was looking around, trying to understand what was happening, yet did not let him go.

When all was still, Legolas gripped her by the arm, loosening her hold. She protested for a moment, then stepped back, apparently realizing he was fine. Bowman and Mornie had clustered around him, holding their weapons at the ready.

Glancing at the others to make sure they were unharmed, Legolas turned his attention back to the fields. All around he saw dead Orcs in the dim light.

Without needing to be asked, Caled conjured a fireball, holding it above her head. The improved light showed nothing.

Legolas knew someone was out there.

"Who's there?" he called.

Silence.

"If you mean no harm, show yourself."

An odd '**THUD**' came from their feet. Looking down, they froze.

Sunken into the grass was a dagger.

A laughing voice broke the silence.

"Did you think you'd gotten rid of us for good? You'd better think again."

----------


	43. Chpt XXXVII: Crosspoints

Chapter Thirty Seven - Crosspoints

Several figures detached from the shadows, moving slowly into the light of Caled's fire. All held weapons that were stained with blood and gore, the hands holding them in relaxed grips.

"I thought you could've figured it out," the lead figure said, drawing closer. "You should know better than most: we never break our promises. That is our law, that is our creed." The fire light finally revealed the smirking, familiar face. "It's also why we're tough buggers to kill."

Relief, doubt, confusion, and the insane urge to burst out laughing flooded Legolas. They all stepped into the light, faces holding varying degrees of smirks.

"You!" Bowman barked, his grin betraying the harsh tone of his voice.

Denya's smirk widened. "Where you expecting someone else?"

Aurora nudged Denya's shoulder reproachfully. Yet she too chided, "Honestly, Bowman. Who would be out in these ungodly lands in the mid---"

She was interrupted by Bowman catching her around the waist and lifting her into the air. He spun around, relieved laughter making his words undistinguishable.

The rest of them, sheathing their weapons, chuckled. Auron stepped up to Legolas, Caled, and Mornie. He bowed to them, saying, "My apologies on the sudden appearance. I hope we didn't startle you too much."

"What are you doing here?" Caled blurted. She grimaced, her words having sounded a bit rude in her opinion.

Denya gave a snort, rolling her eyes. "And we love you, too. Is that all you have to say?"

"It...It's just been so long---" Caled started. She broke off, frowning as she studied Denya closely.

The blue haired Elf remained still as Caled tried to pinpoint what was off about her appearance. It was not until Caled's eyes fell on Denya's neck did she see it. She opened her mouth, the hand not holding the flame making a motion towards the other. Yet she did not speak.

Denya tugged on her left braid. Her only braid. "It has been a long time," she said, drawing Caled's gaze up. Her face, framed by the long braid on her left and the feathered locks on her right, softened into a melancholy expression.

Aurora managed to disentangle herself from Bowman, turning to the others. "The Orcs will notice when the flank does not rejoin," she said, eyes scanning the darkened area. "It appears we have some catching up to do and it would be best if we were in a safer place than here in the open."

"The Firien Wood is not far," Tan spoke up, gesturing in the direction of the small wood. "We may be fine there."

Wordlessly, the whole of them moved. Legolas marveled at how seamless they reacted to each other. Had it really been months since they had seen each other? What had they been doing during that time? Where had they been?

How had the Guild known that they would be in Rohan?

Firien Wood came upon them, the tall, thick trees a welcoming shelter from the plains. The entire wood was on the small side yet it was adequate enough for their needs. They ventured only a few feet inwards, keeping a view of the plains available in case it was needed.

They set up a fire to illuminate the gloom, once again seamlessly falling into the almost habitual actions it brought: Dias and Darin bickering over one thing or another, Tan disappearing to scout the area, Clad setting himself on watch at the edge of the group. Denya and Bowman were discussing something, Bowman pointing at the bracelets on his arm constantly and Denya blinking with a look of such innocence it had to be fake.

Water skins were passed around as they settled around the fire. Auron waited until the talking stopped before speaking. "It would be very, very foolish to think that you did not have questions," he said. "But if I may, I'll ask that you humor us for a moment and tell us what you have done since we left Rivendell."

Legolas and Caled glanced at each other, then at Mornie. Mornie gave a small shrug, motioning for them to decide. Caled shrugged as well.

Steeling himself against the urge to sigh, Legolas replied, "Many things, I'm afraid."

He recounted all that had happened since the last time they had met. He told them of the letter Elrond had received, the Reapers that had appeared in Rivendell, Mornie losing his ability to change, the raid, and the lack of opposition until moments ago.

Legolas intentionally left out mention of his shoulder's ailment, wanting to keep that as quiet as possible. He could feel Caled's eyes glaring at him when he skipped the tales of the scar's appearance and growth. He hoped to only tell Aurora about it, praying she knew what it was and how to cure it.

Bowman picked up once Legolas reached their meeting weeks back, adding his trip to the Guild's place and the state he had found it in. He also gave a brief report on what he had seen of the host that had just passed.

None of the Guild spoke during this. They absorbed everything that was said. When it was finished, silence hung in the air for several minutes.

Then Denya glanced up at Bowman. "That wasn't our trail," she said, her voice oddly bland. "We returned to the den for only a night, right after leaving Rivendell. Then we went North again. It wasn't until a month or so back that we started for the Harnen."

"The Harnen?" Legolas repeated, sitting up straighter. "Then you also heard of this 'nest'?"

"Only rumors," Aurora answered. "It was only when we realized that the rumors consistently mentioned the Harnen river that we thought there might be a grain of truth in them."

"What were you doing in the North?" Mornie asked.

At this, Auron shifted in his place. "We...we went back. To Mount Gundabad."

Caled gave a small gasp.

Auron nodded, reading the question from her expression. "We felt a bit responsible for the destruction of the Shadow Elves' home," he said. "We returned to assist them in whatever way we could. They survived a second attack with minimal damage. Luckily no one died. It appeared to only be a warning, though. They were rebuilding their city when we returned and grateful for any help. We didn't see any Reapers, though, for a long time. Then, three months ago, there was a raid."

"It was terrible," Aurora said quietly. She shivered, rubbing her arms. "There was no sense in anything they did. And their eyes..." She trailed off, leaning against Dias as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Wait," Legolas spoke up. "You said three months ago? But...that was when the raid happened where we were at."

"It was when all the raids happened," Anex responded. His eye closed, worry lines etching across his face. "The raid was not a localized event. It happened all over."

"Some of the Reapers were rambling," Aurora continued. "They mentioned the Harnen river. We put two together and figured that was where the Reapers originate from. Or live, or whatever," she added, frowning at herself.

"We stayed long enough to finish our work with the Shadow Elves," Auron picked up. "Then we started southwards. We met with Gandalf---actually he sent a message for a meeting. He shared a condensed version of what he knew and told us that you were headed for the Harnen. News of the raids had reached Rivendell and he was worried. He asked if we would offer our services to you." He paused, smirking. "The only catch was that it had to be as a favor for a friend."

"Think you can handle us for another trip?" Denya quipped, grinning as Darin groaned something that was more than likely profane at her under his breath.

Legolas chuckled. "In all honestly, I would love it."

"Things just got too quiet with three people," Caled said, carelessly waving a hand. "At least with Denya's annoying shrieks I knew my hearing still worked properly."

"Watch it!" Denya snapped, flicking a dagger into her hand. The glint in her eye was enough to tell she was teasing.

Caled made a face. Then a grin split her face. She reached over and latched onto Legolas' arm, nearly pulling him over. "Keep your hands off my Leafy, and we'll be fine," Caled said in a cheeky, sing-song voice.

For a moment, all of faces illuminated by the fire held the same expression: open mouth, wide eye, raised brow shock. They stared at the grinning Caled and the sheepish if not awkward Legolas.

Then a loud 'hoop' of delight heralded Aurora and Denya tackling Caled in a fierce hug. The two outlaws were talking at once, excitedly babbling in a nearly ear splitting pitch. They pulled Caled off to the side, each asking questions. For the others, the sight of Denya displaying such a feminine air was disturbing.

And odd. But mainly disturbing.

A sharp clap to his shoulder drew Legolas' attention back around. Auron was shaking his head at his sister's antics yet gave the Wood Elf a look that plainly said 'I was hoping it would work out.'

Mornie sidestepped the mass of femininity, looking very irritated. He made his way to sit on the other side of Legolas. His already pale skin was looking even paler, dark circles rimming his eyes.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked the shape shifter, alarmed that his features had changed in such a short time.

"Just tired," Mornie said offhandedly. "I'll be fine once I get some sleep."

"You should have Aurora look at you," Darin said. He eyed the three females warily. "When they're done with...whatever that is."

That caused Mornie's mouth to flicker in a smile.

"You have no thought as to the restraint of your shifting?" Auron asked, looking at Mornie with a critical eye. He was possibly even scanning him, looking for a magical reason for it.

Mornie shook his head. "Other than the fact I've been in this form for several months, I don't feel any different. The tiredness is from using this form for such a long time," he added when Legolas opened his mouth to ask. "In this body, I _am_ human. I have to eat, drink and sleep to live. I'm not used to that."

This time Dias started to speak. Whatever he was going to say, no one knew.

Clad shot to his feet and spun around, snarling something as he pulled his sword out of its sheath. The reaction was instant. Everyone faced the direction he turned, hands once again gripping their weapons. The shadowed woods stared back at them, silent and still.

The only sound in the air was a heavy breathing. It was coming from Mornie. He had not moved, only looked around from his place on the ground.

"Mornie, are you all right?" Caled whispered, eyes darting from him to the surrounding trees.

"I...I don't..." Mornie panted. Sweat beaded his brow, rolling down his white cheeks. He raised a hand to his brow, the appendage shaking. For a moment it appeared he would faint.

Then he was dragged into the shadows of the trees.

A moment passed before it registered. Caled gave a small scream of horror, faintly muffling Denya and Darin's bellowed oaths. Clad was the first to act. He darted around them, following the straight line in which Mornie had vanished. As his cloak whipped out of sight, the rest shook themselves out of the stupor and followed.

Though the wood itself was small, Firien Wood's trees were large with expansive branches and thick trunks. This was a bit of a problem. Clad's massive form was easy enough to follow but Mornie seemed to be disappearing through the trees. They could see him, out of reach just ahead. The form of his captor was just visible, blending into the gloom around them.

It was only when the fire they had left was a small flicker of light behind them that Mornie and his abductor came to a stop. Mornie's golden eyes wandered from side to side, his head rolling on his shoulders. A faint flush now covered his cheeks, evidence of a fever. Though alarming, what made the others stop feet away from where Mornie lay was not his afflicted state.

It was the thin black arm that was clutching him around the chest that froze them in their tracks.

Legolas felt his hands gripping his long knives in a crushing grip. His teeth ground together, restraining the curses that threatened to fly out. He could feel Caled beside him, bristling with anger and hate. The nearby plants were rustling without wind, testament to her rampant emotions.

Denya broke the tension filled silence. She stepped forward, taking a place on Legolas' other side. Her black and silver daggers were in hand and there was a faint blue glow to her eyes. She as well was keeping herself in check.

At her movement, the white eyed Reaper jerked back a step. The arm around Mornie tightened.

"Let him go." Denya's voice was low and flat. When the Reaper did not respond, she let out a slow breath. "Whatever you're planning, we'll return the favor twenty fold, beast. It would be in your best interest to let him go. Now."

The Reaper flinched at the last word, seeing Denya flip a dagger into a throwing grip. Her mouth opened, shaking slightly. It worked up and down before she finally spoke. "M---My plan was no---not what you think."

Someone snorted, Legolas did not know who. He kept his gaze forward, hoping to find any chance to rip Mornie from the Reaper.

"Oh?" Denya sneered. "Then what was it?"

For an answer, the Reaper lowered her gaze and raised her other hand, pointing back the way they had come. Slowly, making sure the Reaper was not trying to distract them, a few of them turned to look.

The small campfire behind them was surrounded by several Orcs. The foul beasts were poking around the site, peering into the underbrush and studying the ground. One or two of them ventured a ways inward but found it hard to navigate around the trees. There was a brief argument, from the distance it was not clear what about, then the Orcs turned and marched back out of the woods.

Once the Orcs were gone, the Reaper released Mornie. Caled darted forward, snatching him by the arm and pulling him away. Anex swung his sword high over his head, the weapon arching for the Reaper's filthy mane of hair.

"Meryl!"

Metal grated on metal, the echo ringing in the air. The Reaper had thrown her arms over her head in defense yet it was in vain.

Denya lowered her arm, the armguard scratching against Anex's blade. She ignored the various shouts the others made, staring down at the trembling Reaper. "How do you..." the question trailed off.

Shaking, the Reaper crouched even lower to the ground. She lifted her head slightly, peeking over her crossed arms. She met Denya's gaze evenly.

"I...I met her," the Reaper said, her nervousness blatantly showing in her tone. "The night she di---was killed. She sent me. To seek Kaha'Dak, to seek _you_. She told me to find you."

Denya looked around, meeting everyone's gaze. It lingered on Legolas, who looked dumbstruck. No one spoke. No one knew how to react. Was it a trick? Or could she possibly be speaking the truth?

"We've no way to verify your claim," Aurora suddenly said.

The Reaper winced at the coldness in his voice. "Y---You do," she said quietly. Slowly, her white on black eyes moved to rest on Caled.

"No way," Legolas and Denya said together, both moving to stand in front of Caled. Caled pulled Mornie closer to her, drawing back. Mornie had collapsed moments before, hopefully into a recuperative sleep.

The Reaper's eyes did not move. "I am going nowhere," she said. "I have nowhere to go. Whether you kill me now, later, or not at all will not matter. It is all the same to me. But I will not die without trying. I can help you, I can tell you what you need to know. But I can only tell you if you trust me!" The last was directed to the group at large with a swift glance around.

"You can't seriously believe this!" Darin exclaimed. "This is a Reaper. A Reaper! Have you forgotten what they've done? What they've been doing?"

Caled's eyes widened at his words. She stared at the Reaper, and rapt expression on her face. When she spoke, it was not in anger or venom. It was caution. "You're the one from the Tower, aren't you?"

The Guild and Bowman exchanged confused glances, not understanding the question. Legolas looked around at Caled, alarmed that she might be considering this.

The Reaper nodded wordlessly.

Caled gazed around at everyone, taking time to study them intently, before she said, "I'll read her. I can tell if she's lying or hiding something. But," she added, glaring at the Reaper, "if anything funny happens, they won't hesitate to dismember you. Slowly."

"May do it anyway," Darin muttered.

Caled's mouth twitched as if to smile. She gently laid Mornie on the ground. Standing, she met Legolas' concerned gaze. Though he could tell she was worried, he saw no fear on her countenance. That alone was what made him step aside.

Denya swore yet also stepped back. She did not move away though. She instead positioned herself beside Caled, dagger in hand.

Caled knelt in front of the Reaper, shifting with nerves. She raised her hands and cupped the Reaper's cheeks. The foul creature winced at the touch yet did not move. Caled's red eyes slid out of focus. The others waited.

It went on for several minutes. A handful of times the Reaper would grimace as if in pain. Yet nothing else happened. When Caled pulled away, she faltered, almost falling over. Legolas caught her, holding her close to him as he checked her for any injury.

Denya held her blade against the Reaper's throat, shooting a warning glare before turning back to Caled. "You all right?"

Caled nodded, rubbing the heel of her hand against an eye. "That was...different," she said slowly.

"What did you see?" Legolas asked.

"Feel," Caled corrected. "Can't exactly read minds, remember?"

"Feel then," he added, rolling his eyes.

"Truth." Caled scrutinized the Reaper, as if searching for something. "Openness." She stood, dusting herself off. With a sigh, she looked up at Auron. "She hides nothing," she said with a slight shrug. "I'm certain that if I _could_ read minds she would not fight me. As far as I can tell," here she sighed and her words became heavy, "she will not harm us. She wants to help."

"She's still a Reaper," Denya snapped. "She's still connected to them. Isn't that right?" she directed to the still shaking Reaper. "That Voice thing connects you together, doesn't it?"

The Reaper made a slight choking sound. Legolas and Caled recognized it as her laugh. "You need not worry about that, Kaha'Dak," the Reaper chuckled. "They do not know I'm here. They haven't known for three months where I'm at."

At the time reference, everyone threw alarmed looks at each other.

"What do you mean?" Denya pressed. "You ran after the raids you committed?"

The Reaper frowned, pensive. "Raids?" she repeated.

"When you things attacked those villages," Aurora spat. "When you senselessly killed innocent people and kidnapped the others!"

White on black orbs widened. "No," she said softly, "no, no. I did not run then. I've been hiding for much longer."

This was a bit confusing. "What?" Dias blurted.

"I ran after you came to Gundabad," the Reaper said. "I've been hiding since then. It was not until the Hunt that I was able to escape all detection from---"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bowman interrupted, making an 'X' with his arms. "Do you come with a translation? Nothing you're saying is making sense."

For the first time, they saw annoyance flash in the Reaper's oddly colored eyes. "You want a translation?" she snapped, startling them all. "Fine, here it is: Neither Zage, Ke'Dab, Ru'Thral, or any other of those filth know where I am! I've abandoned them, I ran from them, and now I can stop them! _You_ can stop them!"

The Reaper pulled up short, swallowing. She continued, in a more controlled voice, "I can help you. But only if you help me." She sat back, spreading her hands out. "Then I will be at your command."

"What guarantee do we have that you won't attack us?" Anex asked. His sword remained out, in an easy grip to use if need be. "After all you just took one of our number from us. What's to say you won't do it again?"

The Reaper cocked her head to the side, shrugging. "Only my word. Which I know is meaningless to you. But think of this: if I had not taken him, wouldn't the Orcs have found you? If that party had not returned, then the others would know you survived."

Another weighty silence filled the area. Nervous glances, fidgeting, and mutters were exchanged. The Reaper remained quiet, awaiting their decision.

At last, Auron turned to the Reaper. "What do you have to tell us?"

A slow, slightly crazed smile spread across the Reaper's face. "What do you want to know?

----------

A.N. – And the plot twists keep twisting!

I do apologize for the choppiness of the chapter. There may be a rewrite in the future.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	44. Chpt XXXVIII: Na'Tath

A.N. -- This chapter may need to be reread several times in order to understand. It is highly confusing.

---

Chapter Thirty Eight – Na'Tath

Aurora bit her lip, squinting in the faint light. With a mental grimace, she stretched the skin of Mornie's right arm taunt. The healing cut there cracked, the blood seeping out thick and tinged a dark green. As she thought: poison.

At least that answered why he had suddenly taken ill. She scraped a bit of the blood into a vial. She added a touch of a yellow powder to it, swirling the vial to mix it. The compound turned a bright purple. She allowed herself to smile, relaxing. It was a common poison, one easily remedied. Once she fixed the necessary antidote, he would be back to normal in no time.

Normal. That seemed so far away now.

Brown eyes glancing upwards, Aurora watched the trembling Reaper. The air was thick with tension, the occasional clink of weapons making people jump. Off to the side, Denya and Bowman had their heads together, whispering urgently to one another. Auron and Anex were similarly positioned, their words even lower so no one would hear.

Placing the final ingredient into the bowl, Aurora pushed down the growing knot of dread in her stomach. Were they really considering becoming allies of a Reaper? The very thought make her shiver in disgust.

Caled moved closer, crouching down to look at Mornie's sweat streaked face. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine," Aurora assured. She tested the consistency of the paste before spreading a layer over the seeping cut. A paste would be a better medium than a liquid in this case. Mornie's earlier words had confirmed her thoughts that his cat form had a different anatomy than a human or Elf. He had been able to ingest a liquid compound before without accidentally inhaling it, something she doubt could happen in his current form.

She frowned, thinking hard. Why was he stuck in this form?

Denya and Bowman separated, each looking harried. This caused Auron to look up. "You found a way?" he asked.

Denya shrugged, raising a hand. She held a thick silver band between her fingers, bizarre scratches running along the outside of it. "This is our best bet," she said, sending the Reaper a glare. "If she gets a certain distance away from mine," she motioned to a similar band on her arm, "or if I break mine then it will constrict until it is nothing."

Auron nodded then turned to the Reaper. "Accept this. It is not a request."

The Reaper nodded. She knelt, thin hands reaching up to gather her grimy hair up. She leaned her head back, exposing her neck. "I'll take it," she said solemnly.

Denya shot a surprised glance to Bowman. They had thought they would have to convince her to put the band on her neck, not an arm as she might have suggested. And here she was offering it without needing to be asked.

When the Reaper made no other move, Denya began to chant. The band expanded, a small gap growing in the circle. She slowly walked to the kneeling Reaper. She placed the band around the black throat, the gap sealing itself seamlessly. Once Denya ceased chanting, the band shrunk to a smaller size.

The Reaper lowered her arms, one hand absently touching the band. Then she looked around expectantly.

"You say you will answer our questions?" Auron said.

The Reaper nodded.

"And you will not lie?"

Again she nodded, though a bit slower. "To the best of my knowledge, I will answer anything you ask of me."

"Who is Zage?"

The abrupt question seemed to catch the Reaper off guard. She blinked, her head slightly tilting to one side. "He is...a leader," she said.

"What do you mean?" Auron pressed, brow furrowed.

A deeper tilt of the head. "Zage is a leader."

"He is not your lord?" Anex asked.

A grimace crossed the Reaper's face before it quickly changed into nervous shame. "You mean of Reapers? No, he is not a lord. There is no lord."

"So you have no ruler?" Anex inquired. "No one that orders you to attack, kidnap, or spy?"

The Reaper's eyes flashed, a snarl pulling at her mouth. "That is not what Reapers do!" she hissed. "Never, never before! It was only when Zage came that we strayed."

The outburst made everyone look at one another in confused surprise.

"What do you mean?" Auron said next. "What did Zage make you stray from?"

The Reaper bit her lip, her trembling increasing slightly. She suddenly look ashamed at her outburst.

"If you do not answer, Reaper, you shall be---" Auron started to warn.

"Na'Tath." The Reaper's white on black eyes narrowed a touch before lowering to the ground. "M---My name is Na'Tath," she said.

"Na'Tath, then," Auron corrected with a sigh. "Explain."

"Zage came," Na'Tath answered. "Zage came and took control of us. He gave his plan and bent her to his will. Every successor since has been his slave. He is no ruler, he has no hold over us. Only over her," she whispered.

"'Her' who?"

Na'Tath's eyes softened with sadness. "There is no name for her in any language but her own," she said simply.

"Is she your ruler?"

She shook her head. "We have no ruler."

"Then what is she?"

Na'Tath bit her lip, her dark brow drawing together in deep thought. After a moment, she got to her feet, skirting the edge of the fire light. She did not move as if to escape. She was bent almost double, searching among the ground. The others watched, intrigued. When she stopped, they unconsciously leaned toward her, trying to see what she had found.

Drawing a hand back, Na'Tath plunged it into a pile of dirt on the ground. When the pile erupted in a stream of tiny, black insects, they realized it was an ant bed. Na'Tath did not remove her hand despite the number of times she must have been bitten. She twisted her arm around, searching.

When at last she pulled her hand out, it was crawling with ants. Dias raised a hand, sending a small wave of ice over the black appendage. The insects froze and dropped to the ground. He performed the same action to the bed so they would not have to keep swatting at the enraged insects.

Na'Tath nodded in thanks, returning to her original place. Her hand was in a fist, clutching something. Nervously glancing around, she opened her hand. Squirming on her black palm was the queen ant, the engorged, white belly almost glowing against the dark skin.

"This is the closest example," Na'Tath said, looking up at Auron. "Like this small one, she is the mother and nurturer of her kind."

A stunned, slightly disgusted silence hung in the air. Na'Tath studied the queen ant for a moment before tipping it into the foliage. She clasped her hands together, waiting for the next question.

It was not long before it came. "You're insects?" Caled breathed.

Na'Tath's mouth twitched in a smile for second. "A close but inaccurate guess," she said. She paused, looking thoughtful. "I am not sure what word could describe it. It is...difficult to explain."

"Try." The word held no encouragement. It was a command.

Na'Tath's shoulders sagged, her gaze once again falling away from Auron to the ground. She was silent for a long time. When she spoke, it was in a slow, pensive voice, broken occasionally by silence as she thought harder about what to say.

"Reapers are not born. They are not..." she made a motion to her own body. "They're lain as eggs."

"Eggs?" Tan repeated.

Na'Tath nodded. "Yes. Yes, eggs. But inside the eggs they are incomplete. They can only mature when the other half comes to them. It can take a long, long time before the other half is brought to the egg. And then it takes even longer for them to merge. Some do not make it. Many die." Her eyes softened, a flash of remembered pain crossing her face.

"What is the other half?" Legolas asked into the silence.

Here she grimaced. Raising her head, she looked around at them. She licked her lips, contemplating her reply. Taking a steadying breath, she sighed. "People."

Caled made a choking sound. Her hand clutched at her throat, fighting against what threatened to come up. "Then...then that would mean you're parasites?" she said haltingly.

Comprehension struck Na'Tath. She nodded. "Parasite. That was the word."

She sat back, thin arms hugging her knees. She stared into the fires, blocking out the shocked faces around her. Yet she continued, knowing the answer was not finished.

"The parasite in the egg can only hatch when someone touches the egg. It is then absorbed into the person. I cannot remember how," she added, sensing the oncoming question. "When it is done, the person---I guess you can say 'host'---retains their normal appearance. There is no way to distinguish the change. Yet the parasite is inside them. And it grows.

"It takes over the host's body, replacing the base cells with its own. Then it attacks the mind. This is what most times kills the host, if not the cell replacement. When the mind has been overtaken by the parasite, the Reaper is complete. It still has the host's appearance, yet inside it is a Reaper. And that is the first time they hear her."

"The mother?" Dias asked.

Na'Tath glanced to the side where she had released the queen ant, nodding. "The layer of the eggs. Our 'mother.' The Voice."

"She's the one?" Denya whispered. "She's the Voice?"

Another nod. "She is the Voice. She reaches into our minds, speaks to us, connects us, directs us. Reassures us." The last was whispered as a lone tear fell from Na'Tath's eye. "She is what leads us back to her once we're complete. She watches over us until our bodies change to fit what we are inside." She extended an arm, flexing her long, sharp fingers. "We learn what we are, what we can do, and how to do it. All for her."

"And Zage is controlling her?" Auron asked, redirecting the conversation.

"He has been since before I came to be," Na'Tath said with a sigh. "With each new Voice, he gains more control. Most of the Reapers now obey him."

"There are some who don't?"

A small shrug. "Besides myself, only the Reaper Elite and the Voice."

"But you said---"

"She does not obey him," Na'Tath cut in. "To him, she is only the one that lays more eggs. He uses her connection with each of us to spy on us. She cannot move from the Nest so there is little else she can do."

This caused everyone to perk up. "So there is a Nest?"Rali said, verbally jumping onto the statement.

"Yes, in the South. That is where she and a vast majority of Reaper live. When they are not roaming."

"Zage is not there?"

"He constantly moves," Na'Tath stated with little emotion. "He's always on the move."

"What is he planning?" Anex asked next.

Na'Tath raised her eyes, looking very solemn. "His exact plan is known only to him. But I do know this: he is constantly forcing new eggs onto people, breaking the old ways. He wants an army of Reapers at his command and he is quite close to getting it. And---" She stopped, biting her lip in hesitance.

"Go on," Caled said gently.

The softness in her voice made Na'Tath stare at her. Gathering her wits, the Reaper said, "He is trying to hunt each of you. Every one of you he wants dead. The very fact that you are traveling together is both mind boggling and frustrating to him. Each time he thinks he has you, something happens. The number of Reapers has been depleted simply because he sends them after you."

"So, each Reaper has a host?" Aurora suddenly asked.

Na'Tath blinked, taken aback by the question. "Yes."

"Each host is different? I mean, they are not all the same, right? They're different people from different Races?"

Na'Tath drew back. It was only a fraction of an inch, yet she did draw back. Her limbs began to shake again. "That is true," she breathed.

"So the Reapers we fight are innocent people? Taken from their homes? From the Shire, Moria, Rivendell, the whole of Gon---"

"No."

Aurora stopped, frowning.

Na'Tath took a breath. "What you fight are not innocent people. The hosts are dead." A pause. Then, "As a last part of the growing process, each Reaper removes the last of the host. They...they Reap the host's Spark."

"What is that?" Denya spoke up. "I've heard that phrase before: Reap the Spark of Life. What does that mean?"

Na'Tath closed her eyes. "It is not something that can be explained. Only shown."

"Then show us."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It could kill you," Na'Tath whispered.

Denya frowned at the crouched form. She turned to Auron, who shook his head, opening his mouth to speak. She beat him to it. "I'm willing to do it," she snapped. "I want to know what it is. Even more, I want to know if she's still speaking the truth. I'm willing," she said again, stopping Darin's objection.

Stepping closer to the Reaper, Denya face her with her hands on her hips. "Do it," she said. "Whatever this thing is, show me."

Na'Tath raised wide, scared eyes to stare at her in disbelief.

Denya smirked. "Don't worry. They won't hurt you if you do kill me. I understand it can happen. No grudge."

Na'Tath turned to look at Auron. The Half-Elf threw his hands up in defeat, giving a grunt of irritation as Denya's stunt. Na'Tath turned back to Denya. "You're sure?"

Denya nodded.

In a flash, Na'Tath moved, knocking Denya to the ground. The sudden movement made everyone react on reflex, nearly attacking the black form. Denya gave a shout of warning for them to stay back before Na'Tath closed a hand around her throat.

Na'Tath got to her feet, straightening to her full, impressive height. Denya stayed limp, hanging from the Reaper's hand as she was raised to eye level. "You were warned," the Reaper breathed.

She roughly dropped Denya to her knees, hand still clasped around the Elf's throat. Her other pulled back, fingers twisting into a claw fashion. Then she drove her hand down to Denya's forehead.

The hand went _through_ her forehead.

Aurora gave a scream of horror. Darin swore, nearly pouncing on the Reaper. Legolas caught him before he got far, eyes staring at the strange sight before them.

Na'Tath's hand had not punctured any skin. There was no blood or any sign that Denya was injured despite the fact that Na'Tath's hand had disappeared up to her forearm. Denya's eyes were wide and her face was pale yet she did not move to get away. She stared, a light sheen of sweat shining on her skin the only testament of her unease.

Then, slowly, Na'Tath began to pull her arm back. Her face was screwed up in such concentration she appeared to be in pain. When her wrist appeared, she gave a soft grunt before slowing down. Her knuckles appeared, emerging from the skin as if through water. That was when they saw it.

Between the long black fingers, something was glowing. The further it came out, the brighter it glowed. Na'Tath stopped when the tips of her fingers were still in Denya's forehead. A small, jewel like object was in her grasp. It was the span of her palm, shaped in a diamond form, the points rounded off to give it a softer image.

The jewel grew brighter, nearly blinding them. Na'Tath shoved her hand back, pushing the jewel back into Denya's forehead. Once her hand was free, Denya jerked, her back arching. Then she fell to the ground.

Na'Tath dropped to the ground as well, scurrying backwards as Darin and Aurora rushed to Denya's side.

Denya's eyes moved around, unfocused. She tried to speak but only managed soft, garbled noises. One hand was moving sluggishly, trying to support herself while the other lay limp on the ground.

Darin turned on the Reaper, growling. "Filth! What did you do?" he roared.

"Denya wanted it," Auron said loudly, stopping Darin from continuing to yell. "Na'Tath told her it was dangerous. Denya was well aware of it. Do not attack her."

For a tense moment, Darin looked as if he did not care. Then, with another growl, he turned back to Denya.

Several moments passed before Denya finally blinked and focused on Aurora's face then on Darin. "Wha---He—--You---" she stuttered.

Aurora let out a sigh of relief. "She's fine," she announced, helping Denya sit up. "Anything feel off?" she asked the still blinking Elf.

"Don't dink so," Denya answered, her words were slurred. She frowned, sticking her tongue out. She gently prodded the cut on the side of it, wincing. "Bid by tongue," she mumbled around her wounded muscle.

"You're lucky that's all that happened," Na'Tath said, making her odd, chocked laughter. "Many go mad."

"That was it then? Reaping the Spark of Life?" Legolas asked, slightly shaken.

Na'Tath nodded. "Each living person has a Spark," she said quietly. "And each Reaper has the ability to reach it. To reap it." She leaned back against the tree, the fire reflecting off the tears streaking her black cheeks. She swallowed. "Zage has caused us to stray. We no longer Reap as we should. The scale is tipped and the price is being paid."

Her head drooped to one shoulder, eyes lazily searching each of their unsure faces. "Reapers are not abominations," she murmured. "When Middle-Earth first became aware of itself, we were here. As the music was weaved, our notes were intermingled with yours. Reapers are a part of the systems. A frightful but necessary part."

"What---What is a 'Spark?'" Aurora stammered out, mind whirling.

"It is not one's soul, per say," Na'Tath replied. "Yet without it the body dies. Reaping a Spark before someone is dead kills them. Slowly and without pain, depending on the person's condition. In the old times, Reapers were a silent, unknown part of life. When one died, save in battle, we would take the Spark. We took them to the Voice. What she did with them, I do not know. Yet without the necessary amount of them, she dies. Many times the Voice demands more, making us rushed and sloppy. During those times we are seen quite frequently in our duty. But sometimes the Voice is unhurried and we go by undetected the whole time."

"Is the Voice that fickle?"

Na'Tath's eyes flashed at Darin. "No," she said curtly. "She is like other Reapers: hatched from an egg into a suitable host. The parasite in those eggs, however, do not have a consciousness. The Voice is merely a host that has been changed so she may fulfill her duties. The duties of the Voice are very taxing, often killing her before her time. It may even drive her insane. I do not know."

"What happens to those who do not change correctly?" Anex asked. "You said either replacing the cells or by taking over the mind hosts have died. Do you mean that many do not make it?"

Na'Tath winced. "On average, it works. People can accept the parasite with little damage. Yet some cannot handle it. Their body functions do not work right, they are driven insane, or even the parasite dies prematurely. Then there are th---" She stopped.

"Go on," Auron ordered, the words spoken much differently than Caled.

Na'Tath shifted, staring at her knees. "Not every person develops into the same Reaper. They are different. Their coloring, their body, even what they can do. But a lot of it depends on their host. Not every Race is ideal for a host. Humans tend to make the best ones. Dwarves as well are quite durable yet they change into rather predictable categories. Hobbits are just beginning to be considered for hosts."

"And Elves?" Tan prompted when she stopped.

Again, she winced. Keeping her odd eyes on her hands, she said in a low voice, "There are no Elf hosts. There never have been. They die."

"What of the Reaper Elite?" Auron raised. "What makes them so different?"

"Their hosts are different," she said. "I'm not sure what Race they are. Only that they have never been used before and they are powerful."

"Is Zage a Reaper?"

Here Na'Tath hesitated. She rocked back and forth, eyes darting from one part of the ground to another. She muttered to herself in a low voice, causing the others to stir with unease.

"Answer."

Na'Tath stopped, stooping lower to the ground. "He...he is...abnormal," she said at last. "He's not from any Race I know, not even Reaper. I do not know what his connection to us is, save for ordering us."

"Run why, _le_?"

Clad's deep, rough voice startled them all. He was just inside the fire light, seated in his usual 'guarding' position. His head was turned towards the Reaper, the visible portion of his face unreadable. "Na'Tath run. Why, _le_?"

A sardonic smile flitted across her face. "We have more in common than you realize," she said softly. "I was kept only because I was useful. Because I am...different."

"Your coloring is odd," Anex pointed out, his eye narrowed as he studied Na'Tath. "Your mannerisms, your voice, even the way you talk; all odd compared to other Reapers."

"Not to mention your blood," Denya interjected. She sniffed as if remembering an unpleasant smell. "It wasn't like any Reaper blood I've encountered."

Na'Tath cocked her head, looking at Denya with a slightly confused look. Then she chuckled low in her throat, as if Denya had just told a joke. "I am very different," she said, still chuckling. "Yet the differences that have marked me as a freak also spared my life. You see, not every Spark can be Reaped. There is always a chance it will fail. Also, Reaping drains the Reaper a great deal. Taking more than two Sparks in one day is enough to incapacitate a Reaper."

She spread her hands out, shrugging in a helpless manner. "Not with me. I have never lost a Spark. I do not become weak after Reaping. That alone kept me alive. And other things about me have earned me ridicule and abuse." She sighed. "I am nothing more than a 'Dufa'Ga.' A mongrel."

Unseen by the group around him, Legolas stiffened.

"I have always wanted to see Zage fall," Na'Tath pressed on. "Ever since I first learned of the old times, I've wanted to kill him for disrupting the balance. Yet I was afraid. I still am. I am one being, there is nothing I can do alone. Then Meryl told me to come here, to help. And I will in any way I can."

The air was no longer filled with the same tension as before. They were wary, to be certain, but no longer to the point of believing the creature before them would harm them.

Without warning, Clad sheathed his sword. The grating of metals made several people jump, Aurora swearing as she clutched at her heart. Clad was still watching the Reaper. Slowly the hood moved up then down. He said something in his own language, making Denya's two tones eyes widen. He then turned back around, resuming his post.

Auron chuckled, sheathing his sword as well. "Clad gives his assent to this bizarre coalition." He took a moment to size up Na'Tath, nodding to himself when he was done. "As do I," he said at length. "But realize something: whatever you may be, you are still a Reaper to me. Should you ever raise a hand against us, I will not hesitate to cut it off."

Na'Tath's mouth twitched in a smile. "I would not expect anything less."

As Anex likewise began to speak, Legolas felt something touch his arm. He looked down to see Caled beside him, looking back up at him. He tried to smile to reassure her but it never reached his face. She as well could no more than tip her mouth in a half smile. He drew her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him, letting him support her.

They would be traveling with a Reaper. Valar help them, a _Reaper_.

----------

A.N. -- Ick, lots of dialogue here. Sorry, I know it's a lot of information but the Reapers needed a bit of explaining.

R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	45. Chpt XXXIX: Half Circle: 2

Chapter Thirty Nine – Half Circle: 2

A shiver passed through her. She raised her head, eyes blankly watching as he integrated before her. He bowed, a motion that both disgusted and amused her.

"What do you want?"

He smiled at her curt words. "Only to put forth my usual inquiry, my liege."

She lowered her eyes, allowing them to slip out of focus. "And you receive my usual answer. She is gone."

He cursed, spitting on the ground. He chuckled when she jerked, checking to make sure nothing had been disrupted. "The ingrates are fine," he said, sneering at the ones on the floor around him. "I did not harm them."

"See to it that you do not." He did not move. "My answer is the same."

"Then why do I doubt it?" he asked with deliberate slowness.

She attempted a shrug. The pain that coursed through her almost made her cry out. She bit her tongue against it. She would not show weakness before him.

He snorted. "I expect another batch before I return."

A wave of relief made her sigh at his departure. She closed her eyes, allowing herself time to relax. Unbidden, the same image appeared behind her lids. The twisted, pitiful, glorious form that now served as her beacon of hope.

"Win," she whispered, those around her shifting at her words. "Please, Valar. Let her _win_."

As one, those around her softly echoed her words.

---

Caled opened her eyes to see that the world around her was white. For a moment she was startled, almost drawing a dagger as she rose. Then the voices of the others penetrated her sleepy mind and she relaxed.

Beside her, Mornie stiffened at her motions. He looked around blearily for a moment, startled as well.

Aurora giggled, tossing them extra tunics for warmth. "Treating hypothermia is not a favorite pastime of mine," she said. "Put those on before you go anywhere."

This was the first major snowfall they had experienced in quite a while. There was close to a foot or so of snow around them that would hinder their trek. While their party may be impartial to the cold, actually traveling through the wet stuff was not enjoyable.

Their immediate area had been shielded through the night, blocking out the drift and most of the cold. Yet the energy required for this weakened Dias a great deal. It was decided that they would wait a while before starting for the day. The shield had become part of their nightly routine over the past days.

Ever since the Firien Woods.

Caled warily looked around as she dusted herself off. Just beyond the shield was Na'Tath, sticking out against the snow like a beacon.

They had had no problems with the Reaper. If anything her presence was barely noticeable. She never talked unless necessary. She followed any command as quickly and efficiently as she could. She had even taken down some deer a few nights back without needing to be asked. All her actions said the same thing: I am here to serve.

It was highly disturbing.

Despite the docile attitude, no one never allowed themselves to think of Na'Tath as anything but a Reaper. A quick look to her long, sharp fingers was enough to stoke distrust of her kind.

With a sigh, Denya squatted beside Caled at the fire. Jerking her eyes towards the black figure, she said, "Woke up right when it started snowing. She's been there since, said something about checking the surroundings."

Caled frowned. "Shouldn't she be able to tell when Reapers come?"

Since joining them, Na'Tath had answered---or in some cases disproved---many of their beliefs about Reapers. One of them, the ability to disappear into shadows, now acted to their benefit. While undetectable by the others, any Reaper that was traveling via the shadows was perfectly traceable to Na'Tath. She compared it to someone standing in an open, flat field waving a florescent colored banner and banging on a drum while running towards her.

Yet so far she concluded that no Reaper was traveling in their area.

Denya nodded. "Still, she said something might happen." She frowned thoughtfully, running a hand over her bracelets. "Hopefully nothing will," she said softly.

"Hope springs eternal," Caled muttered.

Once they broke camp, the shield died away. Dias sat back, eyes closed and breath forcibly even. Na'Tath, either by sensing this or for her own reasons, scurried back. She stayed crouched low, her head lowered. Again, her actions spoke only of service.

"None are close," she said, one thin hand still touching the cold ground. "That can change, though," she added. "I cannot sense their minds so I'm unaware of their plans. An ambush is ever possible."

Auron nodded, pensive. "How long of a warning would you have if they do?"

Na'Tath was silent for a second. "A moment, maybe more if luck is with us." She winced, ashamed. "Speed is something they have on their side."

"Even a moment would help," Rali pointed out, eyes surveying the white landscape.

Denya rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded like 'optimist.' Tan grinned, tripping her as they began their trek.

Despite the tense air, the old habits of bickering and teasing played as though the new addition had not happened. Na'Tath fell back to the rear, trailed behind by Clad. The Reaper quickly learned that the hulking being would wait indefinitely until she moved on. Even though he claimed to trust her, apparently the trust did not allow him to let her walk behind him.

They paused as they crested the next hill. A village lay beyond, already awake and bustling. On their own, several pairs of eyes wandered to Na'Tath. Caution dominated their choice of trails. Though they were growing ever closer to true Gondor territory, snowfall was an ever-changing variable. It made it impossible to form a concrete plan.

Darin was the first to voice their thoughts. "What do we do about her?" He jerked a thumb at the Reaper.

"The range of the bracelet is a hundred yards," Denya replied. "If we need to, I can walk the perimeter of the place and she can follow at a safe distance."

Na'Tath was silent, allowing them to discuss whether or not to venture into the town. Whatever they decided, she would do. In the end, Denya, Clad, Mornie, and Tan agreed to take the longer route. The rest would purchase needed supplies.

As they reached the village, they broke into their groups. The latter further dispersed to inquire about the road conditions and if the locals had heard of any strange activity.

Rali went by himself. He was in charge of acquiring a handful of food items. Such stands and store were within a few minutes of entering the village. Before long he had as much as he could carry without appearing suspicious. However, it would be hours before the rest were to gather.

He wandered the village, keeping an ear tuned to the gossip around him. There was little to be heard and that the villagers did speak of was nothing new. More people vanishing only to die or vanish again.

More and more, the Reaper's territory seemed to grow.

The town square held a vast fountain at its center. Though the water had frozen over, the fountain itself was still a magnificent work of art. Rali lingered, studying the carved stonework: a group of people gathering a harvest.

After a while, a small child came running up to the fountain. He withdrew a small chisel and set to work chipping away at the thick sheet of ice in the basin of the fountain.

Amused, Rali watched him for a time. The boy was determined.

The boy stopped and looked around. Seeing Rali, he blinked then grinned broadly. "Hi!"

"Hello. What are you doing?"

The boy shrugged, resuming the chore. "Making a hole," he said matter-of-factly.

"What for?"

"To make a wish."

"That will take far too long with just a chisel."

He shrugged again yet did not stop.

Rali took pity on the child. Stepping up, he gently moved the boy aside.

He blinked his blue eyes at the taller being, curious.

Rali drew out of ax, mindful of the child. Luckily, no one reacted to the weapon. The square was almost completely deserted: a handful of people passing through, another child playing in the snow and an elderly woman sitting on a bench not too far away. With one swift chop, he cracked the ice.

Delighted, the boy hastily scooped the chunks of ice out of the way. He quickly rubbed his hands on his pants to warm them. A grin stretched his face.

He pulled a coin out of his pocket and held it up in front of his face. He closed his eyes, took a breath, then flipped the coin into the freshly revealed waters.

The coin plodded into the dark recesses of the fountain. The boy beamed up at Rali. "Thanks, sir! Grandma hates to miss a day of wishing."

Rali glanced over the boy's head. The old woman on the bench was watching them intently. "Is that your grandmother?"

He nodded. "Come meet her! She'd like you!"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I won't bother her." Now that he looked, Rali saw that she wasn't really watching them. Her eyes were clouded and unresponsive: blind. Her thin hands clasped a weathered walking stick across her lap, clenching as though with minute spasms. He felt a surge of sympathy, knowing the cold outdoors must be uncomfortable for her.

The boy reached up and grabbed Rali by the hand. "Come on! She won't mind. She'd like meeting you. You look just like him!"

"Like who?" Rali asked, allowing the boy to lead him.

He grinned again, blue eyes flashing. "Her angel!"

The feeling in his middle vanished. He stumbled, barely catching himself before he brought the child down as well. He stared at the woman. _Can't be_...

She titled her head to the side, listening to their approach. "Who have you brought with you?"

"A nice man!" her grandson answered happily. "He helped me break the ice so I could make the wish!" He sat down beside her, pulling Rali down as well. The stunned Half-Elf was able to maneuver his ax back into its holster and shift his pack aside to make room.

The old woman chuckled. "Thank you for that favor, sir. It's hard enough between the two of us."

"No problem, ma'am," Rali answered automatically. He couldn't look away from her. His eyes poured over every part of her aged face, thinking he must be wrong.

The boy gently tugged on her shawl. "Don't forget: you said you would, Grandma. You'd said you'd sing it if I did!"

She laughed again. "You never change. Always the same. You don't want a different one?"

The boy paused in thought. "Well," he said at length. "How about the other one first? The one with the pretty words?"

She nodded. She took a breath then started to softly sing.

The words hit him as it they were his own ax. The Elvish song washed through numb ears. Another winter day flooded his mind. Another time the words had been sung in that same voice, though much, much younger.

The song was over before he realized it. The boy clapped then cried, "Now the other one! The other one!"

She smiled. "If you sing with me."

He nodded, unconscious that she could not see the motion.

Their voices mingled together in the song. Partway through, Rali found himself quietly joining them.

"_Mirror, Mirror, where's the crystal palace?_

_But I only can see myself_

_Skating around the truth who I am_

_But I know, Dad, the ice is getting thin._

_When you gonna make up your mind?_

_When you gonna love you as much as I do?_

_When you gonna make up your mind?_

'_Cause things are gonna change so fast._

_All the white horses are still in bed._

_I tell you that I'll always want you near._

_You say that things change, my dear._

_Hair is grey and the fires are burning._

_So many dreams on the shelf._

_You say I wanted you to be proud of me._

_I always wanted that myself._

_He says:_

_When you gonna make up your mind?_

_When you gonna love you as much as I do?_

_When you gonna make up your mind?_

'_Cause things are gonna change so fast._

_All the white horses have gone ahead._

_I tell you that I'll always want you near._

_You say that things change._

_My dear._

_Never change..._"

Though she could not see, the old woman turned her head towards Rali. No one spoke for several minutes. The boy continued to hum the tune to himself.

"Why don't you run along and find us some roasted nuts?" she finally said, breaking the silence. "It's much too chilly out here without something warm in our bellies." She lifted a small purse from her lap and held it out to the boy.

Delighted, the boy snatched it and sprinted off, calling behind him for Rali to wait for him to come back. When the sound of his footsteps faded, the old woman returned her unseeing gaze back in front of her.

"I wondered what happened to you," she said slowly. "Wondered so hard, sometimes I dreamed about it. You have no idea how hard it was for me to stay."

"To a degree I do," Rali said, his voice suddenly rougher. He cleared his throat, swallowing to moisten it. She chuckled, taking no offense. "It was hard not to turn around and go back."

She nodded. "So...what did happen?"

"I wandered. For many years. Then I met with others like me." He smiled, remembering the scene. A pang of regret flooded him, knowing she couldn't see it. "What about you, Leanne?"

She smiled fondly, suddenly resembling the young girl she had been, the young girl who had stood on the hill top with tears in her eyes as he walked away. "I helped with the rebuilding of the village, grew a little, met a wonderful man who gave me wonderful children, grew a little more, saw my children find their own wonderful people, and grew even more. It seemed like that was all I did: grow. You don't sound a day older than when you left."

"In many ways, I have."

The smile slowly fell from her face. One withered hand reached over and touched his arm. "No matter what hardships you endured," she said, voice gentle yet firm, "no matter what hardships you dealt, you were and will always be my Angel."

Rali briefly thanked the Valor she could not see his eyes mist.

They sat in silence until her grandson returned with three heaping wrappings full of an assortment of roasted nuts, still steaming between the papers.

"Even angels sometimes fall, Leanne," Rali said quietly.

She shrugged, smiling as she unwrapped her bundle. "That may be, but I'm not worried about you."

Rali chuckled. "And why is that?"

She paused, carefully chewing a few of the nuts as she thought. Her grandson silently picked up a few choice morsels from her bundle to add to his. Unknown to him, she easily kept count of how many, so as to tease him later. Finally, she replied, "Because I believe that when you fall, your wings are mended in no time."

The bundle almost fell to the ground. A swooping sensation gripped him.

_Are they mended_?

"I believe even now they are mended." She turned, showing him her smile, still as bright as she remembered. "I truly believe yours are."

---

Tan idly sharpened his sai. Denya and the others were sparring a little ways off, killing some time before the rest met with them. The Northern Elf took a downtime to maintain his weapons, not liking how neglectful he had been lately.

Na'Tath moved, slowly so as not to alarm him. She shifted closer to where he sat. Though he was aware she was keeping watch---as he was since that spot on the hill was the perfect distance to view the village and the valleys around them---Tan was unable to hide the disgust that clouded his face.

Her white-on-black eyes flickered to him before she jerked her head back around.

"Why did Meryl send you to us?" he asked, surprising both her and himself.

Hesitantly, she looked around again. "I do not know."

"For that matter," he went on, trying to cover the sudden question, "why were you at her place?" His honey-hazel gaze narrowed. "Where you the one to kill her?"

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. She stopped, biting at her lip.

Tan's grip tightened on his sai. "Were you?"

The Reaper crouched lower, tucking her head. "She...she was already dying. A slow death." She made a motion across her middle. "Painful. I...I did not want her to suffer."

"But you delivered the killing blow?"

Another hesitation. Then she nodded slowly.

Tan swore under his breath. He mentally counted, controlling the surge of rage. Meryl had been a good friend. She certainly had not deserved to die so horribly.

Na'Tath waited, as still as stone.

"We should have slit your throat when we had the chance," he spat.

She did not respond.

For some reason, that irritated him even more. "What? No plea for your safety? Do you even care?"

In the blink of an eye, he had closed in on her, the point of his sai pressed against her throat. Still, she did not move.

"I should slit it now," he said in a low voice, "before you slit ours. Before you let another of your filth do the same."

One brow twitched yet otherwise she did not move.

"Still nothing? No begging?"

"Why should I beg?" she spoke at last. "I agreed to allow you to take my life if you saw fit. Even if I _do_ allow the Reapers to know where you are, I would still die the second I stopped speaking. Death either way."

The smallest drop of pity cooled his temper. He withdrew his sai and started to stand. He only got partially to his feet when he stopped.

Her hand was gripping his shirt just below his ribs on the right side, sharp tips slicing through the material as easily as the now around them. It had been in her grip the whole time.

"Besides," she said softly, "how can you kill me if you can't see me?" She released him and he stumbled back. Her unblinking eyes stayed on his. "I will not harm you in any way unless I deem it necessary."

Na'Tath rose to her full height. "Do not make it necessary."

Startled, Tan watched as she turned and slunk away. She reached the other end of the hill and kept watch. Tan returned to his previous spot and resumed the chore.

Yet this time, he watched her.

----------

A.N. – 'Winter' belongs to Tori Amos.

....And holy crap, it's been a while.

So, first: a big "I'm SORRY!!!" to those who sent e-mails, re-reviewed, and otherwise tried to see where I've been. Still around, still pounding away at the keyboard.

Second, a note: my absence has been due to some real life issues that required my full attention (deaths in the family, education, work, etc.) As such, there is no telling when/if something else will occur that will take me away again.

Third, a promise: I want to finish this. To repeat: I _want_ to finish 'Fire and Blood'. Honestly I do! I want to get this out of my head and finally let everyone know all the big secrets and twists and everything. So, if ever in doubt, remember: I want the next chapter out as much as you do. (well, maybe not some of you...)

Fourth: another "I'm SORRY!!!!" I really and truly am. It's been years since I last posted and I feel really bad about that.

Hopefully it won't be too long 'till the next one! And as always: R&R!

---Kaze no Tenshi


	46. Chpt XL: Escape

Chapter Forty – Escape

The market teemed with life. Days of traveling across muted, blank snow made her forget how _alive_ the world could be. Caled grinned, watching a corner performer balancing on the point of a thin stick. The voices, laughter, bartering, and all helped push away the worries of their travel.

It helped, but not completely.

No matter what she had done---assisting her while in Saruman's tower, drawing the yellow-striped Reaper away, distracting the other the night of the raid---Na'Tath and her presence unnerved her. Even with the collar and the threat of its activation, Caled did not feel safe.

As though sensing her thoughts, Legolas' arm wound around her waist. She stifled a smile and leaned into him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She cocked a brow at him. "I would have believed they were worth more than that."

"Ow! Such sharp words," he gasped, miming taking an arrow to the chest.

Caled rolled her eyes, stepping out of the warm embrace. She regretted it but enjoyed the teasing. "Keep it up, mister, and Darin can warm your side of the bed roll tonight."

Legolas grimaced. "Now that's below the belt, _coramin_."

"And no using that," she chided. "You know I can't resist when you ask saying that."

His blue eyes lit up. "Really? Have to remember that," he murmured, bending down to nuzzle at her cheek.

She swatted him away, only half-heartedly. A few of crowd were watching: some with envy, mostly the younger ones, and some with nostalgia, mostly older couples. It still embarrassed her whenever Legolas was so open with his affection, despite the pleasant heat it gave her. Though he retreated, she trailed a hand down his arm before grasping his.

He still grinned, squeezing her hand. "How about this: you tell me your thoughts and then I'll attach a price to them. Fair enough?"

"All right, fine," she said with a sigh. Reluctant to let go of the teasing air, she hesitated. When he looked down in concern, she blurted, "I was thinking about our...latest traveling companion."

"You said she wasn't lying," he pointed out gently.

"She wasn't. At least, not about what she said," she explained, frowning. "Every word she said was true. But..."

"But she's still a Reaper," he finished quietly.

Caled shivered, gripping his hand tighter. "Yes. And traveling with one is not very comforting. I mean, look at this," she waved her free hand between them. "We've all split up. And why? Because she's with us. Yes, it's for precaution. But it's still because of her. How much more will she affect us? Is it even a good thing that she turned herself over to us?"

Silence fell, each musing over her words. Legolas had to step around a beggar halfway through the road. They passed through the town square, covertly waving to Rali who sat conversing with an old woman and a small child. He nodded yet made no other move. He was intent on what the old woman was saying.

Once they had crossed the square and were once again surround by the stands and stores, Caled spoke, trying to inject a lighter tone, "So, what do you pay for that?" Even to herself, the words sounded flat.

"What day is it?" Legolas asked instead.

Caled blinked, not understanding. "Thursday. Last of January, I believe."

He nodded though he did not meet her curious gaze. His hand gave a funny twitch.

She frowned, glared at the limb: his left arm. She opened her mouth to ask if it was bothering him again. She had noticed it spasm a few times over the past few days. It worried her a great deal.

Something hard with soft points pressed against the palm of her hand. Puzzled, Caled let go of his hand and turned hers palm up.

Silver glinted in the sunlight. Her breath caught and she stared. Her mind had trouble processing the sight.

A necklace with the charm of a child seated in a crescent moon.

She felt a gentle pull and allowed herself to be lead aside, out of the flow of traffic. She almost stumbled but Legolas easily supported her. She broke away from the small object to stare at him instead.

His grin was now a smile of pleasure. Possibly of seeing her struck speechless.

"How..." She trailed off, not sure what question she was trying to ask.

"I saw you looking at it. During the Winter Moon festival. You didn't buy it even though you wanted to. I went back the next morning when you were still sleeping."

"But why?" At last: a full sentence, if a bit brief.

"Do I need a reason to want to give you something?" he scolded though his voice was relaxed and without any real insult. The smile seemed to deepen.

Before she could reply, he pulled her into his arms and embraced her. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"Happy birthday."

Caled held back a gasp. She had forgotten. But how---

"I asked Mornie," he went on. "He recalled that you had either mentioned it once or he read you at some point in time."

Caled stepped back without breaking the circle of his arms. She reached up and framed his face with her hands. The necklace dangled between her fingers. Stretching up, she kissed him, hard and full of love.

As he returned the move, the beggar turned away from the scene. He walked down an alley, shed his disguise, and faded away into the shadows, sea-green eyes glowing all the while.

---

The impromptu sparring session ended without a word. Denya and Clad gathered their gear, Denya with a frown directed at Tan. Since arriving at the meeting point the Northern Elf had not moved.

Mornie held back the urge to look up at Tan. He had not moved, but he had had an interesting conversation.

While confined to his human form, Mornie still retained a handful of his power. His limited mental abilities had allowed him a voyeuristic view of the conversation. It had been interesting but he made himself push it away.

The shape shifter turned over his hand, glaring at the pale skin. Months had passed and still this form.

Something was blocking his ability to shift. He knew it. He _felt_ it, as surely as if he were choking. Whenever he attempted to change, something stopped it. No matter how hard he pushed, it did not budge.

That in itself was not the problem. Many of his kind had assumed a form---human, Elf, even dragon---permanently to escape capture and death. But that had been a chosen action, one sealed by a conscience act. This was not.

Mornie clenched his hand, feeling the nails bite into the skin.

This was dangerous. Fatal.

At sound of his name, he looked up and fixed a better expression on his face. Caled and Legolas crested the hill and began the trudge down to them. Caled was beaming.

The sight of her joyful manner eased his dread. The silver glint at her throat told of the reason for her elation. It was worth having to comb through all the previous Dream Hastenings between them, searching for a clue as to the day of her birth.

She was in fine hands.

The others were quick to arrive. The newly purchased supplies were divided amongst them. Outside the laughter and the easy teasing, Na'Tath crouched. Hand to the ground, she silent probed the area as she always did.

A jolt when through her, sending her to her feet.

At once, silence fell. Everyone turned to follow his wide gaze. Weapons were drawn with lightening efficiency. A tense moment passed.

"They are ahead," Na'Tath whispered.

"Why didn't you say so sooner?" Darin hissed.

"They...they are not moving," the Reaper responded. She sounded dazed.

Auron frowned. Shifting his sword grip, he moved around and started approaching the next rise.

Caled swallowed, gripping her dagger tightly. She could still hear the sounds of the village. The sun had not yet reached the middle of the sky. An attack? Now? It didn't seem real.

Auron crouched low, angling his sword behind him. Slowly, he peeked over the rise. He jerked back. His free hand moved.

She read the signs easily: _Large group. Numbers unknown. Not moving. Elite._

"Do we move?" Denya spoke, breaking the tense silence.

For a long while, no one moved; they barely breathed. Anex was the first to follow Auron. One by one, the rest followed. Na'Tath managed to snap herself out of the daze and resumed the crouching dash beside them.

Ke'Dab's malicious grin met them as they stopped. All around him, Reapers faded in and out of sight within the mass of bodies. The mass grew and shrank at the same time. It was impossible to tell the exact numbers. Ke'Dab was flanked by the rest of the Elite.

Every bright eye narrowed on Na'Tath. She drew closer to Denya, who noted the move with a flick of her two-toned eyes. A rolling call of the Reaper's name ran through the crowd, hissed and jeered like a curse.

"And so it seems the rumor was true," Ke'Dab chuckled, the only Reaper there who did not look upset. Its wide mouth was stretched in a grin.

Na'Tath said nothing. Her eyes stared at a place a few feet away from the Elite. Her hands were wrist deep in the snow, fingers clawed into the ground.

"A Reaper, traveling with this scum?" the Elite with the sea-green stripe snarled. It spat. "And I though you could fall no further, dufa'ga."

Legolas stood towards the back, straining to keep his face a blank mask. Every hissing word spoken echoed in his head. Another word or phrase always trailed along behind the echo, distracting him.

The pink-striped one let out a howl, outrage and fury vibrating its thin body. "I want her head!" it snarled, an arm curling around Ke'Dab. Glowing pink eyes left the trembling form to implore the other. "I want it."

Ke'Dab laid a hand on its head, a gesture too affectionate to be believed. Then its grin became a leer. "Go get it."

The swarm charged.

---

Gandalf looked up as Elrond entered. The wizard closed the large tome he had been pouring over and set it aside. Elrond stood at the nearby archway leading to the balcony, hands clasped behind him.

Gandalf lit his pipe, annoyed he had let it go out. He had been too absorbed to notice it. His eyes gazed at the spidery script along the book's spine before returning to Elrond. He could wait to continue.

At last, the Elf Lord spoke. "Should I have let them go?"

The wizard frowned. "Elrond, do you honestly believed you could have stopped them?"

"Yes, I could have," Elrond replied. Yet he did so with a great sigh, as though such a thing would have been very painful.

Gandalf recalled the rather flamboyant company Legolas and Caled had kept during their previous travel. He pondered how they would have reacted to such a thing.

...very, _very_ painful, indeed.

"All that aside," he went on, "is this something I should leave to them?" He turned and Gandalf saw the lines of worry in his friend's face. "Reports are still coming in. Some more gruesome than others. And they're heading into the middle of it all."

"Do you doubt their capabilities?"

"I doubt their sanity."

Gandalf chuckled at that but it was only briefly. Somber again, he said carefully, "You cannot solve every problem that occurs. Especially now that you've decided to journey Westward."

Elrond closed his eyes; whether enjoying the thoughts conjured by those words or dreading them, the Wizard could not tell.

"You have to let children run, even when they fall every other step. It's the only way they learn."

"Yes. Yes, you are correct." Elrond gazed out over the balcony, at the oncoming clouds that threatened with bad weather. "But that doesn't stop you from hurting every time they fall."

---

_They're toying with us_.

The thought helped push the chorus of hisses and words running through his head. Legolas whipped his blades around, striking a Reaper through the neck. He carried the momentum and easily toppled a massive blue-streaked one to the ground.

The mass of Reapers had no end. No matter how hard or long they fought, more kept coming. Occasionally the blur of shapes and bodies was broken by the sight of one of his companions. But even then, there would be a flash of some bright color above dark blue skin and dread clawed at the Elf's insides.

The Reapers were not backing down this time. They mean to kill or capture.

Legolas found himself praying for the first.

Across the way, Denya darted through Reaper after Reaper. Her sharp ears kept her alert as to where the others were. The bracelet that matched the one around Na'Tath's neck hummed the closer she got to her, making her take more notice of the ones she attacked.

She jumped and caught her legs around the shoulders of a tall yellow Reaper. She plunged the daggers into either side of its neck and smoothly landed beside the lifeless form.

A flash of sea-green was her only warning. The air left her lungs yet reflex brought her arm up in time to kept the brunt of the kick. Denya rolled back to her feet, grimacing at the flare of pain in her arm.

The Reaper Elite rolled its head, eyes narrowed on her. Another Reaper moved closer and it growled in warning, blue skin rippling. "Mine," it growled.

"How sweet," Denya drawled, clashing her daggers together and forming the bracers. The pain doubled but she fought it. "But shouldn't you have sent flowers first?"

Darin swung, embedding the blade of his bo into the skull of a Reaper. He braced his weight and swung it around. The carcass crashed into the crowd, confusing and disorienting many. Thus distracted, they did not see the streak of ice that impaled their twisted bodies.

The Mirkwood Elf quickly blocked a blow aimed for Dias' unsheltered back. He spun his bo and caught both of the Reaper's hands. Teeth gritted, he twisted until bones crunched.

At his side, Aurora flinched. Her arrows never wavered despite the sickening feeling. She was running low. Soon she would have to resort to her special bags or retrieve more ammo.

A shout made her whip around. Darin was on his knees, pitching drunkenly before a foe. Before it blinked, it had an arrow in each eye. It crumpled to the ground, twitching but harmless.

She moved toward Darin, noting the odd dull state of his eyes and the bleeding gash on the side of his head. She touched Dias' back to warn him and observed Anex making his way toward them as well.

Her sharp eyes suddenly froze on something in the crowd of Reapers. A lone one was standing still just a few yards away. She stopped---dangerous as it was in the situation---and stared. Something was different, something was wrong. She just couldn't---

The Reaper sported a shock of bright yellow hair. It almost glowed in the sea of red, purple, and blue. Like the Elite, it did not match the rest.

Lemon colored eyes lowered to its hand. It lazily rolled something too small for her to see between its thing fingers. Then it held it before those eyes and drew in a breath.

The world exploded and she knew no more.

Caled spun around, eyes wide. The explosion occurred yards away yet she could feel the concussion. She tore through the Reapers, not caring if they died. She raced ahead, trying to get to that site. Who had been there? Who was hurt?

Did anyone survive it?

Mornie fell into her path, locked in a grapple with a bulky blue-haired Reaper. Caled lifted her whip to help but froze.

Mornie's was surrounded by black mist. His face was shifting. Longer like a cat, thinner like an Elf, reptilian and dragonish, the muzzle of a dog: it all flickered by. Yet his body remained the same.

A hand shot out and grabbed her by the shoulder. Startled, Caled barely had time to catch her fall. She turned on her back and lashed her whip out.

The grey-eyed Elite caught the whip around the arm and yanked. Caled felt her shoulder give out then pop forward unnaturally. Pain shot through her from the limb. Her cry was cut short as the Elite swung her own whip at her, striking her across the face with the handle. She did not move.

Denya had only just gotten to her feet, thrown back from the blast, when she was tackled back to the ground. She glared at the Elite straddling her. Her dagger flashed, aiming for the gut---

Sharp, agonizing pain ripped through her eyes. Denya screamed, hands clawing at her face. A soft, powdery substance fell away from her fingers. A chill penetrated her pain: what was it?

The sea-green Elite roared in triumph. It watched as Denya pitifully tried to clear the mess out of her eyes. So absorbed in the perverse act, it did not see the one who drew up behind it.

Na'Tath held herself still, counting herself lucky that none of the Reapers had tried to harm her except the Elite. Though she felt the others' animosity for her presence, she now felt what it truly stemmed from.

Envy. Not hate.

Every Reaper watched her and did nothing. Not unless ordered by an Elite. The sea of purple, red, and blue eyes watched and yearned for something they had no words for.

She pushed the thoughts back and focused. She reached a hand out and gripped one of Denya's flailing legs. As soon as it stilled, the Elite sensed something was wrong. By the time it turned around, she had gone through the shadows, taking the Elf with her.

Legolas panted, trying to catch his breath. His left arm had long since seized up. Yet the Reapers were not taking advantage of this. Most made no move closer to him. A few snarled or jumped at him yet drew back after he fought back. Something backed into him and he turned, flipping his long knife into a stabbing grip.

Clad stood there, the limp bodies of Tan and Rali in one arm. The hulking being quickly deposited his load and turned to face their attackers. As his cloak shifted, Legolas saw what looked like a broken blade sticking out from between his ribs.

Suddenly Legolas was pulled forward. Ke'Dab gripped his useless left arm and pivoted, sending Legolas crashing to the ground.

Clad roared, swinging his sword high overhead. Two more Elite appeared behind him and each lunged, fingers stretching into claws. They sunk into his back. Clad jerked, immobile. He swayed then fell.

Red eyes glowered down at Legolas. It made the smile even more demented than before. "Poor little Elf," Ke'Dab crooned. It stomped a foot down over his chest, halting his movements. "You should not have taken the dufa'ga."

Puzzlement stopped Legolas' struggles. "She---Na'Tath came to us," he stammered.

"Lies!" the pink Elite hissed.

Ke'Dab said nothing but a single look silenced any other words. Instead, it looked around, searching for the subject of the talk. It frowned then turned back to Legolas. "Where is dufa'ga?"

"No idea," he grunted. He desperately hoped someone was still able to move, to fight. Yet even as he hoped, his ears picked out the sounds of Auron and Bowman's voices amid a clashing of swords and those were growing fainter.

His arm twisted harshly. His bones snapped.

"Where?" came the question again.

Legolas fought the cloud of pain. He gritted his teeth and glared.

Ke'Dab's eyes flashed. The grey Elite appeared at his side, one hand dragging a limp body.

Legolas heart stopped. _Caled_!

Ke'Dab's grin returned though it was muted. It nodded to the grey one. Caled was lifted by her hair. Her captor rested its hand across the flesh of her exposed neck. Without warning, it dug in, slashing across her neck to the shoulder.

Maybe he shouted. Maybe he screamed. He was not sure which.

"Where?"

"I don't know! I don't know! By the Valor, _I don't know_!" he cried. He didn't look to see if Ke'Dab believed him. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Caled. Her face was growing pale.

"I will not ask again, where is---"

"Right here."

A black shape slammed into Ke'Dab. Startled, Legolas was released. He scrambled to his knees and half-crawled to where Caled had been dropped. He reached her, not caring at the searing pain in his broken arm. He pulled her to him, unable to look at the scene escalating just feet away.

Na'Tath crouched on the ground yet this time it was not in servitude. She was poised over Ke'Dab, one hand clutching at its throat and the other poised over the forehead. The Elite were circling, appearing from where they had been when one of their own was attacked.

The pink Elite darted closer, hissing a challenge.

Na'Tath, no longer trembling, pushed her hand into Ke'Dab's forehead. The lack of blood stopped the Elite. They stopped, staring at the impossible sight.

Legolas tore at his clothes, trying to get enough free to staunch the blood flowing from her neck. Blood soaked her clothes and hair, matting it to her.

Caled stirred, blinking her red eyes. She stared up at him, at first unable to comprehend why he looked so distraught. Then she raised a hand to her throat.

Wadding up what he was able to get, he pressed it to the wound. She gripped his wrist, unable to talk. Her eyes screamed for her.

Another hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. Denya pulled herself closer, gasping her air. She had her eyes shut tight. The skin around them was a blotchy and red. "Where's Na'Tath?" she said, her voice sharp and commanding in the odd silence.

Legolas looked over and saw the frozen situation. "She...she's doing something to Ke'Dab. They're not attacking her."

Denya seemed to think for a second. Then, struggling, she worked at the bracelets at her wrist. After a time, she pulled one free. She held it up. In the bright sun, it glinted with an almost ethereal shine.

"Leafy, take it," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "Don't...don't got much time. Fading out. Use...use that."

"What is it?" He took the bracelet. It was light in his hand, the metal cool and pleasant. Why did she seem to focused on this plain band?

"No time!" she snapped. "Just...do what I say. Clear your head. Think of...think of somewhere safe. Somewhere absolutely safe. Somewhere peaceful."

Peaceful.

The word struck a chord in his memories.

Legolas looked down at Caled. She looked back, scared.

Without giving himself any more time to think, he swiftly kissed her, then gripped the bracelet. He closed his eyes.

He breathed a word, a single word that embodied 'peaceful' in his mind.

The ground shifted beneath him. The snow was suddenly half a foot higher. The acid-like smell from the explosion was gone. Running water came from a distance away. Closer, the sound of a horse and cart.

Legolas looked around. The first thing he noticed was that all the Reapers were gone. Na'Tath stood alone, snapping her head around, wide eyes searching all around. The band at her neck was glowing faintly. He looked down and saw his disguise ring gave off the same glow, as did the bracelets on Caled's wrist.

Hooves on cobblestone caught his attention. The cart turned the corner and came into view. It was not a horse that pulled it after all. Weirdly enough the sight of that sent a wave of relief through him; they were there.

"Legolas?"

The voice was familiar. Then the face of the driver came into crystal-sharp focus. The relief doubled though it was strung with shock.

Peaceful. Peaceful indeed.

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	47. Chapter 47

Sorry, not the chapter you were expecting (not yet anyway).

Note for 1/14/12:

Announcement to be seen at the link on my author's profile or copy and paste the following (remove the spaces):

kntmeetinggound. blogspot. com/


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